Of Saints and Soldiers: The Eldest Child
by A. Ruth Howe
Summary: Book II: The past has finally caught up with the Eldest Child. Now she must come to terms with herself and a past that brought her from child, to fugitive soldier, to the creation of Lady Une. ::Complete::
1. Prologue: Somewhere Within

**_All standard Gundam Wing_**

**_ disclaimers apply_**

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**_The Eldest Child_**

**_Prologue: Somewhere Within_**

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 I will say one thing, and mark it well, because it makes all the difference in our struggle. 

            I came first

My name is Analicia Delizabane, the second child of a prestigious family of German decent. The eldest child, a distinction which has haunted me for my entire life and now has finally caught up with me; now that they have found me again

They took me from Brussels, my family that is. I had been suddenly thrust back into the "pilot's seat" of myself and felt Anne retreat deep inside. Somehow I knew she would not be coming out again. I was on the floor to my surprise, and holding my arm, rather painfully tight, was Gabriel. Aria and my other relations stared down at me in their triumph. I noted Kateline's look of venomous pleasure and I know even now I must be guarded against her.

Only an hour or so before I had also been awake, the sight of my almost unknown sister Shireen had sparked my return to control. Things of that nature always chased Anne away. Seeing my family always brought me out, as I know Anne could not understand it and therefore not handle it. All other gaze in confusion at me, thinking my behavior, my reasoning, my very mind to be out of sorts. They say I have some kind of disease of the mind you know, that I am disordered. Well… I don't really know about such things.

I was taken away from that place directly, my family in tow along with other prisoners; Mariemaia, and Relena. They protested far more than I did. I did not wish to return to the Isle, that much is true. But I certainly had no real attachment to Brussels. This kept me strong even as I boarded the plane. You see, I am not one for emotional displays and it embarrasses me to think of how Anne has behaved on previous occasions. I know we were both taught to act differently. In any case I will not pretend to regret my departure from Brussels; I have no love for the place.

In truth there are but two things I was loathed to leave. That is of course, my son Alexander. He is still only months old. And Zechs…. Which I will not get into right now.

Yet even now I wonder what he would think and what he would feel as he ascended the staircases and reached Alex's nursery and found us gone. I wonder if he would even survive to make to there.  But I believe he would, I was sure of it. Zechs was never to be underestimated. I knew he would get there, albeit far too late. Still at this late hour, I wonder what he thought to find me gone. I especially wondered if he understood the truth about me, and what he thought about that. That, and all the other hidden truths, now exposed. The lies.

Yes, I suppose it has been a lie all this time, being someone else, living a false life. But it was not I who fashioned this lie, it was another, and it was necessary for my survival…Or so he said. I wonder what Zechs will think of that as well.

Regardless of what dwells in Zechs' mind, I was taken from Brussels. Gabriel held my arm tightly as we traveled, making sure I would not resist. He did not understand things yet, and I pitied him greatly.  Even more so to see what the Isle must have done to him, the sight of his one eye made me bleed inside. For, though I am not Anne, I did love Gabriel after a fashion; though it is a certainty that had he known me, he would not have felt the same. This is fine for me, I can live with it. But I do regret knowing that it because of me that Gabriel has been so twisted to suit an Isle purpose. Though I bear a measure of bitterness for him, I believe as others do not, that he is really a good man. 

            I have been now in the Isle for twelve days, locked inside the room that was once mine, forced to stay until I accept Aria's agreement. My lips are silent to her. I have not spoken since they took me from Brussels. 

            So for twelve days I have sat here, dwelling on all the things that have made one Leecy from another. I think also on those other parts that have made Leecy what I now am, all the parts. It is the story of my life, and I will be honest, it was never pretty. Although if there is one thing I have learned, it is that nothing is for sure, and beauty is negotiable. My life has been in a few words, the burden of living under the rule of others. Some I was forcefully subjected to, others I chose of my own free will. I will explain that better in my own time

            What is best to understand from this is that there was a beginning to it all, and reason. Yes there is much reason in my life and the choices I have made. I want these reasons to be understood. That is my purpose I believe, to make people understand, and to allow myself that same luxury. My course then is set now, not to dwell on Aria's offers, or of that which has passed so recently; Zechs, Gabriel, Relena, Alexander. No I wish to go back further. I wish to contemplate my world before there was such a thing as Anne to claim it. In understanding that world, so you will understand me; my world, from its beginning to where ever it shall end.

            Then, fate willing, you will understand why I must do what needs to be done. 

**_End Prologue_**


	2. Upon the Isle

_All standard Gundam Wing_

_ disclaimers apply_

**Chapter 1: ****_Upon the Isle_**

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_"We suffered yes, and endured. We brought with us all the humiliation, the history, the rage that could sum into what we must become. We'll continue as ever, to endure and survive, till the time brings us our rightful vengeance."_

_~The Account_

**I remember now, I remember how it started. It was my entire lifetime ago, beginning from the day I was born into the cursed family of Delizabane. I was the oldest daughter of an eldest son. Merrick Delizabane was my father; I was his eldest daughter, his eldest child. That's who I was. I was… that's who I was. I was Analicia Xavera Delizabane. The eldest child, I would that I could erase that fact from existence.**

** Beginnings are loathsome, but necessary I am afraid. It's so hard to find where exactly it all starts without going so far back that you find yourself utterly lost in the past. I have sought all my life to avoid looking back. This occasion will mark my first trip. I fear that it may be a one way journey.**

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**_And so it begins._**

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Victoria Delizabane held the child close to her trembling body. The exhaustion mingled with elation had issued a ruddy glow in her face. Her cheeks ran with sweat and tears now spilled over the smiling expression of joy that she donned after having given birth to a living being.  Gone from her mind were the horrid memories of miscarriages and the stillborn birth of her son Aaron a year ago. Now at last she had given birth to the hope of the Delizabane family. The child was silent, she had not even cried, but merely murmured newborn noises.

The door to the bedroom opened and in entered Merrick Delizabane, flanked by his many attendants. They clambered at his heels all muttering reports of various kinds. The news of his wife's labor now concluded had at last reached him. He had been far to busy and not terribly interested in attending his wife during her labor.. Merrick dismissed the nurses and his attendants and took a seat. Only the chief housekeeper, Mrs. Collins was permitted to stay.

"A girl…?" he muttered roughly

 Victoria looked over to her husband who sat at the far end of the bedroom where she had labored for seventeen hours.  Merrick Delizabane appeared less then jubilant and was clearly indicating that his presence was due to martial duty and not fatherly emotion.

"I'm sorry Merrick"  she kept her eye lowered, not wanting to bear his disapproval. Merrick stroked his dark beard and grimaced in his place. Victoria attempted to be optimistic.

"She is our future Merrick, She will succeed us. There is no need to be disappointed. I know she can do all that is required."  Baring his usual aristocratic sneer, Merrick folded his arms against his chest in pronounced agitation. The birth had been difficult for Victoria. The child had not turned and a cesarean operation had been performed.  For a time the midwife physician believed the child would die and priority was placed on saving her mother.  But the infant proved them wrong.

"She is strong." spoke Mrs. Collins the chief housekeeper and caretaker of Victoria in sickness. Victoria looked at the older women and nodded through her tears.

"Deserves a strong name the little bit does."  

"A strong name indeed" the Countess of Mortaine's voice was strangled by the swelling emotion inside her. The child grasped her mother's finger in the usual infant manner and Victoria ran her fingertips softly down the length of the child's face in her own signature gesture of affection. Ten feet a way Merrick frowned at the display he associated with flagrant weakness. He grunted in a dismissingly

            "The name does not concern me. Let it be as you will Madame."  Merrick waved a dismissing hand as he rose from his seat and departed the room. 

            "As I will then…" The child made small gurgling noises and Victoria held her up so that the golden electrical lights illuminated her.  As a young girl and grown women, the child would always prefer the night and its artificial illumination; the preference would stem from this impressionable moment in her life. 

"And a strong name you shall have. You will be known as Analicia Delizabane" Victoria brought the child back into a gentle embrace and the child's eyes became droopy with impending sleep. 

"And you shall be the hope of this family, and this land, my little Leecy."  Victoria kissed the child once before allowing Mrs. Collins to take her away to be cared for properly.  

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	3. Similiarity Naught

_All Standard Disclaimers Apply___

**Chapter 2**

**Similarities Naught**

            "Mother?"  The dark-haired four-year-old called from her seat by the fireplace, her eyes brightened by the nighttime lamp light that she had always loved best. "Mother, are you well?"

            Victoria coughed and drank some of the herbal tea that Mrs. Collins had brought in for the sickly woman. Victoria was not well, and had not been in nearly two years, though her daughter would not yet understand why. It seemed to Leecy that her mother had never been well. At the very least not since the birth of her second child, a daughter named Aria, who Leecy now sat with by the fireside, observing her quietly.

            "Do not worry for your mother Leecy. She is a strong woman like you and Aria will be someday."  Mrs. Collins looked kindly at Leecy Delizabane as she walked through the room and the little girl smiled. Victoria gave a look of gratitude to the Mrs. Collins for reassuring her daughter. She set the tea down, wishing that she might have some medicine to make the sickness in her stomach release her for a time. But most medicines were forbidden in the Isle. Yet another small detail she had not been informed of when she was married to Merrick and brought to these strange Islands.

 Sitting on Leecy's lap, Aria fussed and flailed her little arms and Leecy put her down. The small red-haired toddler hopped up and down and clapped her chubby little hands at her old sister, indicating a request for a clapping game that Victoria sometimes played with her. Leecy looked at the child strangely, not understanding the point.  On the nearby sofa, Victoria looked up form her needlework and smiled down on her daughters. When the younger child tired of the attempted game she stood and stumbled around the room in an infant roaming, Mrs. Collins and Leecy kept close watch. At length Leecy took up a small book and began to read.  Delizabane children were always schooled into literacy from the earliest age and Leecy proved to be tenacious in her pursuits. This pleased Victoria, knowing it would serve them best in their lives; their mother wanted her daughters to be as prepared as they could possibly be. Merrick was in complete agreement. The field of education was the only area in which Merrick showed any interest in his daughters. Victoria frowned to ponder the _additional education the children would have to endure, and which Leecy was already begun._

"_There is no way around it Madame, my children, whether male or female will be schooled in the art of battle. They will have all the necessary skills required to lead and defend their country and the honor of this family."_

_ Victoria recalled her husband's words as they had been re-iterated before each birth or whenever she seemed to question the idea._

            Leecy lay down next to the fireplace with her book and rubbed her arms. Victoria suspected that they were sore again from the lesson she had had that morning. Merrick had given his oldest daughter a variety of firearms for her Christmas present and was now insisting that she have a lesson everyday on how to use them. The guns were far too heavy for a four-year-old to hold up for extended periods, but being told that it was a sign of weakness, Leecy was afraid to complain. Aria made her way over to her mother and held out her arms for the sickly women to pick her up. Her fingers wriggled and she hopped up and down to gain her mother's attention.

            "Leecy, take care of your sister for me" Victoria's voice was horse and nasal from her illness. Leecy rose promptly and gathered up the small child in her sore arms.  Aria accepted her older sister's embrace and wound her chubby fingers in Leecy's long dark curls. Leecy looked at the red tendrils framing the child's face and the bright blue green of her eyes. Her eyes contrasting eyes narrowed slightly. She did not like the difference. Aria already strongly resembled her mother with her red hair and light eyes. Analicia was undoubtedly her father's daughter. It was a secret hope of Victoria the lineage would be in appearance only. Knowing the tenacity of her family, that hope would never be reality.

"Leecy do not frown so at your sister. She is impressionable" Victoria silently reproached herself. She put too much on a four year old, thinking Leecy would understand her. Leecy was very bright, but not old enough to understand adult language. 

            "I don't like her eyes" she muttered, surprising Victoria. Perhaps she has understood after all.

            "Why don't they look like mine?"

            "We are all of us different my little doll." 

The answer did not satisfy. Leecy almost dropped her sister in a bit of disgruntled fashion. Aria squealed and cried.

"Analicia!" Victoria ceremoniously dropped her needle work and looked harshly on her daughter. The small child stood up defiantly and folded her arms proudly. She did not look to the ground but straight into her mother's angry face. Aria screamed on the ground.

**_Already so much like my father_**

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"Come here Analicia!" Victoria ordered rising to her feet. Leecy stood for a moment, then her hands fisted by her side and she met her mother by the sofa where she had been sitting. Now her eyes went down upon the lightly colored carpet. 

"You are too young yet to learn of our house's discipline Leecy."

The child made no response, but Victoria suspected her fists tightened.

"Why did you do that Analicia?" 

Again Leecy said nothing and her dark eyes did not rise.

"Answer me Leecy!" Victoria shouted.

Silence.

"If not me you will answer to your father." She warned her.

Leecy's eyes shot up and looked clearly frightened.

"Tell me why."

Leecy chewed her bottom lip for a moment, debating with herself. Finally her eyes fell to the level or Victoria's waist. Not watching her eyes, nor sinking back to the floor.

"Not like mine" she said in a small whisper. Leecy never spoke much and rarely above a whisper when she did. It was not a display of fear on her part.

Victoria sighed in understanding. Then she began to cough. Her coughs consumed her for several minutes. The room was loud with the sounds of Victoria's illness and Aria neglected cries. Leecy did not move throughout. When Victoria had righted her breathing, she motioned for her daughter to come closer. Leecy obeyed carefully but did not look up when her mother grasped her hands and squeezed them gently.

"She is your sister. She is younger than you and needs care. It is the first and last of your responsibilities Leecy. Aria will always need you and you must always remember to care for her and to love her as well. I have all my faith in you my little doll. I know you will make me proud and that you will honor your family. You want that right?"

Leecy nodded compliantly but sincerely.

"It begins here Leecy, with your sister. She is the beginning of your responsibilities. If you can do right by her, than you can do anything else. She will grow under you. She will love and admire you, idolize you, strive to be like you. That is a tremendous duty that you will have to conduct with the utmost respect and maturity. Are you capable enough for this, Leecy? May we depend upon you?" She spoke in a light tone that would help the four year old wrap her mind around the concept. Leecy seemed motivated by the talk of honor and duty more than anything.

"Why do I have to do it …  Madame?" She answered in her small voice. But Victoria was wary of her answer. She called her by the name her husband used most of the time. Inside Victoria was a dread that Merrick had passed himself down into his eldest child. She didn't want any of her children to bear a manner like her husband, but especially not the Eldest Child.

The Isle did not need another Merrick Delizabane.

But she would not fear, for Leecy was special. She would not be like her father. Even if this strange illness progressed and took her life as the doctors feared, Victoria knew that Leecy would resist her father's dastardly influence. Oh she would be trained, that neither Analicia nor Aria would escape. But Leecy would be her own person. It was already evident. Victoria needed her to instill that independence in her sister.

_I think even then she knew she would not live to do it herself_

"I do not like her" Leecy folded her arms stubbornly. Victoria looked frustrated. She was a stubborn child, frequently obstinate and willful. Her inflexibility was too strong for her almost five years. But something about it did not trouble Victoria all that much. A noise from the door grabbed her attention.

'What trouble is this?" Merrick, dominating and large, loomed over the doorway. His black eyes scanned the room where his youngest daughter sat wailing, and his eldest scowling a hole into the ground. His wife made no movement to explain. Merrick both enjoyed and distained her fear of him. 

"It was nothing Merrick, Arai simply fell over and Leecy did not reach her in time." Victoria moved to her husband's side, trying to distract him.

"Is that so Analicia?" he pushed his wife aside. The little girl rose to meet his gaze and just looked at him, their eyes matching colors. In the short years of her life the little girl had never had a confrontation with her father. Not because she feared him, but more because it never came up. Suddenly Victoria thought perhaps she should have taught Leecy to fear her father. But she knew that wouldn't have been right.

"Well" he became taller over the tiny girl. His voice grew in severity. Victoria held a breath, hoping Analicia would keep with the lie.

"I let her drop."  Merrick's arm shot out and took a tight hold on her slim arm.

"**You did what?" he roared at her. With a rough torrent of violence he shook her arm until she lost balance. "****You did what?"  Again and again. When she was on the ground, her free hand covering her face a little to hide from him, he stopped.  Merrick rose again, tall and overbearing, and insufferable to Victoria, who felt as though she might cry, but knew she could not.**

"You did what?" he asked one last time, his voice more frightening then when he yelled. He was trying to scare her, trying to make her repeat the lie her mother had first told. That way he might punish her with reason. 

Leecy's eyes rose again, they did not look afraid, but definitely distressed.

"I let her drop" she repeated, not as soundly as she had the first time.

Merrick's laughter wrung out and startled all in the room. Even Aria had fallen silent once her father had begun his assault. He patted Leecy's head and knocked her chin a little more roughly than he should.

"That's a good girl. That's a very good girl." He smiled, but it did not look like a real smile to Victoria. Leecy just watched his eyes carefully, and breathed hard through her nose. 

Merrick's attention now focused on his wife. His gaze turned cold and foreboding. Victoria knew what was to come.

"Madame, come with me" He ordered in a way that would take no refusal. He walked passed her and out the door, and Victoria, breathing in deeply, obediently followed.

Alone in the room with her little sister, Leecy sat now staring at the door her parents had left through. Her eyes darted from one golden door hinge to another and her breathing slowed. When at it had been some time since the room had turned silent, she moved and held her sore little arm, bending it up and down several times. Her mind turned over what had happened as best it could. Then she looked over at her sister, who had taken to walking around the room again. She looked at the splay of red hairs that were growing all about her rather large head. Leecy's own fingers played through one of her dark curls and she thought again. She thought of her father's dark hair and eyes.

"Like mine" she muttered in a rough whisper. Again, Aria caught her eye.

"Not like mine" and to Leecy, that seemed much better. Slowly, she smiled.

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	4. A Perfet Danger

**_All standard Disclaimers apply_**

**Chapter 3**

**A Perfect Danger**

_"No viper so little, but hath its venom"_

_~Thomas Fuller_

My reverie was broken suddenly by harshness outside my chamber door. Guards had been posted outside in the hall since my imprisonment, the length of which I was unaware at the time. Since being sequestered I had fallen into a stupor of remembrance which only sleep had penetrated. I never noticed then the changing of the guards but knew that the event was reoccurring outside the door at irregular intervals. One of the guards chatted quietly to himself during his occupation of my door. I spent a few hours listening to his ramblings when I had first arrived, as it helped to pass the time. Gentle booted footsteps and the rustle of fabric I took to be the scratchy fiber of Isle uniforms singled the change of the guard. During the first days in the room I had come to know and depend upon these changes; anything to keep me away from looking at the lack of amendment to the room itself. 

            After a time the room's preserved state of old had become a sphere from which I did not venture. I took myself away from the door where I had spent the days lying and waiting for the soft sound of the guards rambling or the arrival of the relieving officer, and took to the bed where I began the journey, in which, gentle reader, you are my soul companion. My head lay on the pillow, still as white as a funeral lily, just as I had left it those many turns ago, and thought on past things. Things that were; dead and gone things or things altered now by the passage of time and frozen events danced before my mind and I sought to grasp them. My mind was a swarm of the old and the moved-on-from, so much like the battlefields veterans wander away from and scorn. But it is not like the long forgotten blood dried into powder there. Its is as fresh in my mind as the hot flow from a mortal wound and thrice as painful; when I remember that, but for you, I am alone here. All had passed away and forgotten these barren hills where I buried my dead and from whence I made myself.

            But how ridiculous, I am get away from myself, my apologies dear reader. It is not for me to dwell on sad and unchangeable things. What effect can they give to you that would be useful in my tale? No, I dally too long in childish pastures and vats of self-pity. In recollection, I had just recounted the last potent memory of my mother and the only pin pointed occasion of decision where it concerned my darling little sister. Prior to that time I had either scorned her or remained indifferent. Truly, I do not remember much of myself from such a young age, few people do. But I do remember the moment my father's malice and my mother's resignation made clear to me the path I must undertake for the protection of Aria. Not that I loved her then, but for purpose's sake, I undertook the task.

            I was amidst the recalling of this sudden contract with myself, when a rough stirring outside the door to my apartments liberated me from my engagement within. My head was immediately up from the pillow and I gazed with quickness at the door, anticipating some entry. Initial thoughts predicted another meal that I would scarcely eat being brought to me. As a special prisoner I was well fed and my health looked after, but I only picked at the food enough to sustain a sharp mind for remembering. I usually heard the brattle of plates on the tray long before they reached the other side of the door and made to hide my conscious state with appearance of sleep. Interaction with whoever brought the tray was not something I would engage in, and during those brief visitations I never even caught a glimpse of the servant who brought the meals. 

            This moment was different and I knew it was not the tray being brought. A voice out in the hall gruffly commanded the standing guard off, and it clearly would brook no refusal. Even though I was hazy with the reverie of unknown hours, I was still able to foresee the voice's master and was able to thrust myself into a sitting position on the bed just before Gabriel opened the door.

            He sauntered into the chamber with no ceremony and closed the door to the hall beyond, twisting the lock with exaggerated slowness. He wore his red coattails and black breech pants, establishing himself as aristocratically outstanding to the room. The black eye patch loomed over the lost eye. The other eye compensated for the missing one by doubling its malice when it finally gazed at me. For a time he did nothing else but gaze, I admittedly was slightly cowed by the black demeanor. Experience had long ago taught not to provoke a raging son of Jareth Khushrenada. I swallowed my useless pride and looked away from him, accepting a small defeat. Satisfied at his equally small victory, Gabriel crossed the room to the where my untouched plate lay; its contents not even picked at this time. Some grapes sat beside a plate of medium roast beef and some change of side dishes. Gabriel plucked up a grape and tossed it into his mouth. He settled himself down at the sitting room table and propped up his high booted feet on the cheery wood. It was a gesture of relaxed domination. He knew he would get no more than a noting glance from me but it was obviously enough for him. Chewing the grape, he regarded me intently, with no good reflection on what he saw, I am sorry to say. If he waited for me to speak he did not show it. Surely he would have known that Aria could garner no words from my lips. I doubt he thought he could do better, but experience has also taught me that Khushrenadas were eternally surprising.

            "You are not eating." He stated plainly as if I might respond. Again he took up a grape and devoured it soundly. I only looked at the plate in distain. My hunger had not risen from his arrival but had instead plummeted to near nausea. A spiteful smile showed his understanding. He nodded and acquiesced the terms of our communication.

            "I can see your mind well enough. Do not attempt to play the mystery with me. I'll not be frustrated into leaving because you will not open your pretty little mouth. You, my Lady, are stuck with me until I am content." A cool smugness pervaded his speech. I kept my eyes downcast and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, when I had gained it, my hands folded in my lap and I trained my gaze back to him, awaiting his demands.

            "You are required to eat." 

            Again I looked at the plate, my position unchanged. Gabriel took up the bunch of grapes and turned them in his palm. "I could make you eat, you know." He glanced up at me for the answer in my eyes. My chin rose at that, he might lay rough hands on me but I would resist, and Aria would not permit any misuse of me, not for what she had in store.

            Gabriel laughed, reducing me to a foolish little girl with his belittling chuckle. He chewed yet another grape and scarcely swallowed for the laughter. "You don't think I can do it, eh?  You think I will just prowl about you like a threatening wolf that growls but never lunges?  You think I can't spring on you and shove these grapes down your throat? Perhaps it would get you to talk a little if I did, or at the least scream." His tone was provoking, but for all its insult I could not manage resentment with my eyes. I had no need for his escalated anger and so I allowed him his satisfaction once again by lowering my eyes to the floor.

            This seemed to infuriate him more than spare him. Gabriel's feet came off the table and slammed hard on the carpeted floor. The grapes were cast aside over his shoulder where they dispersed into a hundred different journeys across the floor. I watched one or two reach the window on the far side of the room, momentarily indifferent to the rage that was now out of his seat and crossing the quarters to where I sat on the bed. Gabriel grabbed my wrist and jerked me to my feet, eliciting a short gasp from my finally parted lips. The force of his wrenching sent a shot of pain up my arm. I looked up into his one clouded blue eye and remembered that I had loved this man. No, that I still loved him in a thousand different ways that were now part of that abandoned battlefield in my head. There was no place for my affection in the present; it would serve neither of us. Despite that, it still influenced my behavior towards him. But no more of that, too much of such thought would extract Anne and my time was not yet up.

            "Have you nothing to say to me, Anne? Not a thing? I can understand why you would not speak to the others, I know your pride. But to me, there should at least be something." When his appeal triggered no difference in my demeanor, he came closer so that I might have a closer perspective of his wrath.

"You see this?" he gestured to the absent eye. "This is your doing. It hurts still, badly, and if you do not wish to have an intimate understanding of that pain, I suggest you cease plaguing my patience with your damned silence." Gabriel released my wrist, almost throwing them up in disgust and left me standing there. He positioned himself on the end of the bed, adjacent to my former seat. My spirit sunk like a  sword in marsh at his words. He did not understand things at all. This great ire of his was for Anne and he saw no difference in me, understood no change. The notion pitted in my stomach that he could be so blind to it. I must have thought about that disappointment for a while, for his manner softened a bit, not that I trusted it. I bit my lip as his hand caught my wrist again, willing me to sit beside him. Immediately I sensed his game, he was ever true to his nature. Turning slightly, I cast my eyes on him and saw where the devil hammocked in the curve of his smile. What Khushrenadas could not achieve by force they took by seduction. Being who I was I must have been thought the epitome of susceptibility. 

            That was more insulting then anything, I yanked my wrist away from his arresting fingers and found myself comfort leaning against the western wall, facing him. Gabriel must have found this challenging but made no move to pursue me there. Instead he let a rough hand smooth over the wrinkles caused from my seat on the bed comforter. I was moved to stare into the blackness of the eye patch, for the remaining eye vexed me.

            "Why don't you tell me about him?" he said softly, coaxingly. I furrowed my brow to communicate confusion. Gabriel shifted to become more comfortable.

            "The boy, my son. That's what the president said was it not? Not sure I believe it. Why should I believe it? You aren't right in the head after all, you can say anything you want and there is no reason to believe a word of it. I really don't see why Aria fusses with you. Were it I, your neck would have been snapped some time ago. But such is not the case I'm afraid. So tell me of him, Anne. Tell me about my boy and why he is so like me. Convince me that he is mine and that you did not fall right from my arms into Zechs' bed. Perhaps a sound physical description would be appropriate. When I saw him he was screaming so that I did not make out much of his face. Does he have my eyes and your mouth? Your hair and my eyebrows? Will he lie about everything including his own name and family when he is a man? Will he lack honor and sincerity and pray on the unsuspecting who are foolish enough to fall into his web?"

            I said nothing of course, but just let him know that there were no lies in the planes of my expression. But in truth, I had not thought about Alexander at all, or of Mariemaia, or Relena. They had been brought along with me, hadn't they? Yet I could not focus on them. Indeed, focusing on Gabriel was then difficult, my mind wanted to pull back so badly and I was having trouble focusing on why I was standing at the wall. My head wanted the pillow and the reflection of my dark battlefield was already looming at the corner of my mind. Gabriel was talking again I think, scorning me anew. But I couldn't hear it, it must not have been important for the echoes in my ears were swelling ever louder, drowning out my vengeful guard. I perceived my eyes opening and closing sluggishly, and my head swayed and bumped along the wooden panels of the western wall. It sloped from one side to the other, and a shadow that must have been Gabriel fell over me, but if he had moved I did not hear it. Did I even see it? The wall felt like a mountain ridge against my skull; mythical Appalachians that I dreamed of as a girl. It began to hurt to roughen my cranium against the ridged wall of mountains, but I didn't stop, though I yearned for the lily pillow still. All that which has a moment ago been so coherent and normal was a morning mist fading in the heat of the day. Struggling against it never occurred to me. I preferred the hiding depths this trance provided; Gabriel could not pursue me there. Then I knew it must be his shadow darkening my form. Even as the next memory came alive in my eyes I knew it was him, for I was on the bed again, my head against the desired pillow. I lay there with my eyes open, seeing nothing of this world. Inside, that deserted battlefield bled to life and became inhabited once more.

            ***********

            Advancing snow slowed the procession and attendants buttoned their collars against the cold invasion of their clothes. It wasn't the pleasant festival white fall of Christmas days, but an offensive tirade of Mother Nature declaring her bleary mood on that day. Leecy's mind was in harmony with it and she even added to the amassed forces by providing tears that froze on her cheeks. The harsh wind came from the north east and bore down on everyone by the bluffs and white cliffs. The sea crashed nearby and the cemetery gate rapped against its hinge; making a wild melody for the beleaguered. 

            She had cried several days ago when Mrs. Collins explained the idea of death. Leecy was angry that no one had given her any prior explanation before that date and waited until the hardest example of it arose to teach her of passing on. Her mind flooded with the usual questions: Why, why now, why didn't anyone do anything, why did she let herself be killed? All the many outraged questions that plow through the brain of a mother rendered motherless by circumstance. So she had cried them out of her head. It was not a conscious choice; nature has seemingly taken over and expelled the burning matter right out of her tiny head. But the facts remained there even after the instinctive custodial work had finished. Her mother was dead.

            Now she stood at the grave site and watched the gilded coffin, laden with flowers, be lowered into the frozen earth. Aria stood beside her and trembled from the cold. They both wore the black uniforms of their family with a heavy overcoat. Leecy held her sister's hand, hoping that she wouldn't begin crying. On the journey to the bluff-side cemetery, Leecy had wiped away the sudden tears that again arose before her father could catch sight of it. He had forbidden crying at the funeral; claiming it as the ultimate disrespect to his wife. Any breech of this rule would result in severe punishment. So Leecy stifled her tears and buried any inclination to cry as best she could. Aria, being so young, was in less control. Leecy squeezed her hand tightly whenever she felt her sister's trembling becoming too noticeable.

             As the master of ceremonies droned on about life and duty, the wind grew sharper for an instant and half the flowers on the casket flew up. They swirled and flew apart in the air above, petals pulled apart by the wind and sucked by a vacuum over the cliff's edge. It was a spectacle they watched in strained fascination. The vacuum sucked at their hair and clothes in a beckoning way. Leecy was tempted to follow, but Aria still clung to her hand. She glanced back at her father briefly but he did not seem to have noticed the minor phenomenon, or the coffin in the ground. His mind was likely on other things.

            A strange calm no saturated the area, and Leecy felt as thought it was no longer snowing so hard, nor did she feel the need to cry. She felt as though she never need cry again and silently, amidst the vacuum of the bluff and the reigning snow, she promised her mother that she never would again; bearing the need for it with her.

*****************

            Merrick Delizabane did not spare less than a week for his daughter's mourning. Four days after her Victoria's funeral, Bram Wickfield, Merrick's chief attendant, appeared in Analicia's bedroom. It was early morning and she was up, folded into the wide window casement, reading a small children's novel. Bram said nothing when he crossed the room, removed the book from her hand, and replaced it with his own. Leecy also did not say anything but held onto his hand without question as he led her barefoot into the hallway. They ventured down the corridor that was still from the early hour. Leecy hesitated and looked to the door of Aria's bed chamber, expecting Bram to fetch her as well. Bram pulled on her arm gently and she fell back into step beside him, the padding of her little feet penetrating the stillness of the wing.

            They walked a long time through areas of the house Leecy had never been permitted to go into. Bram's hand was warm and reassuring, so she was not afraid. Her father must be summoning her she thought and hoped that her bare feet would not offend him. But confusion erupted in her when she was led out of the house into a terminal that led to the adjacent military complex; a place in which she was forbidden to tread. The complex was white and sterile looking like a hospital. Its high ceilings hung long florescent lamps that cast a sickly light on everything. Leecy noted the color of her skin under that light, and determined to avoid such harsh hues whenever she could. She would keep all the soft light for herself and shut out the nasty unpleasant illumination. 

            They moved into a bunker, and her feet became cold. The floor was frigid linoleum that sucked in the cold but shunned the heat. Leecy's feet licked its square tiles as they journeyed deeper inside the compound. At last they stopped at a door that was no different from any other they had passed along the way. Bram released Leecy's hand and she began to feel afraid with out the clutching security. He knelt down next to her and gave a small look of support.

            "Go inside Analicia, and do exactly as you are told. Do not speak until you are questioned and say no more than is needed when you do. Do you understand?" he asked. She nodded her compliance and the door was opened. Stepping inside with a small hesitation, Leecy found the room mostly dark and colder still. There was padding on the ground but the cold permeated from the walls. A small cot with only a single white pillow and blanket was set on one side of the large room. The rest of it was colored in dark blue matting and mirrors on the opposite wall, like a dojo. A single florescent spotlight lamp illuminated the very center of the matting, under which knelt a small Asian man. He was robed in a black kimono and looked fairly old. Though he was sitting, it appeared to Analicia that he was not much taller than she was at five years of age. An expressionless face hung on him that might have indicated seriousness of patience, perhaps both. 

            "Sit" he commanded in a high voice. One hand jutted out from his voluminous sleeve and designated the spot on the mat directly in front of him. Not knowing whether he desired her closer or further away from him she chose a safe mid point and sat. Then immediately observing that he knelt on his knees, she repositioned herself and mimicked his position.

            "Observance is well. To do so is to have advantage."

            She blinked, unsure of what to do, but remembering Bram's warning not to speak until questioned; she remained quiet and gazed back at him. With their eyes locked, the two sat there for almost forty-five minutes. Leecy's feet began to ache from the weight of her body but her companion did not move and so she did not move either. She nearly jumped when his voice suddenly rang out.

            "What are you?" he questioned.

            "A five year old girl." She answered uncertainly.

            "What are you?" he repeated. Leecy thought longer on the answer, trying to decide what he wanted. She gave another general answer but again he repeated his question. Each time she tried to get more specific, but having no idea what he was looking for, the space of time between each answer became greater. When he had gone on asking her for a solid fifteen minutes she finally answered correctly.

            "An eldest child."

            He bowed his head and began to speak in a nasal voice.

            "Delizabane  samurai. Eldest Child samurai. Eldest Child born samurai and become samurai again after die. Samurai have duty. Duty never forgotten. You learn duty here. You no have name now. Eldest Child your name now. I call you Eldest Child, you obey. No speak, only listen. Only one kind of student, obedient. You no leave here unless summon. You stay here until learn duty and name meaning. You samurai now."

            *********************

            _I grew up there. Seven years of my life passed under the watchful eye of Master Hirumatsu. I learned his language, and his custom. I learned his patience and his serenity. I learned his violence and methods. By the five year mark I was the model of obedience.  His commands were fulfilled without even conscious thought. The tasks that were so incredibly difficult at first became second nature. My master worked me hard; most of the day was spent in meditation and the accomplishment of tasks that seemed meaningless. I was taught the duty of the samurai from early morning to late afternoon everyday. At a certain time each day, my master left me and I was given food and a book to read. Then I climbed into my white cot and read the book, dry as it usually was. They were educational, teaching me history and basic science and mathematics. The mathematics gave me trouble. My master said that soon I would be released and tutors would explain what I did not understand. This excited me beyond measure, for the dojo was my world and the books my only entertainment. Solving their mysteries became my pursuits of pleasure, but often at night I would leave them be and think of my sister. My vow to protect her in my mother's stead was lost now that I was confined to the dojo. It lingered on as a stain to my honor. Shame was something I had learned from Hirumatsu as that which is to be avoided above all things. Shame destroyed samurai, and if I knew great shame in my life, I should end my life in honor to ensure I would be born samurai again. I kept secret the shame I already bore over Aria, not wanting to be commanded to escape it by killing myself. _

_            That worry ceased when I was eight years old. Aria was brought to dojo herself to be taught. She did not stay long as I did, but was taken back into the complex each day. Our interaction was never much, for talking was not permitted in the dojo. In the three years I had been away from her she was already much changed. She was quiet and submissive as I had been the day of my arrival. Together we learned the art of swordsmanship and jujitsu. Hirumatsu did not even call her by a name as he did me. Aria had no distinction has a second child; she was backup in case of my death. _

_The time spent in the dojo forced me to begin thinking about what my role in the family would mean. I had been told all my life that I was the eldest, but it was never explained beyond that. Hope was what my mother had said I meant, but I did not understand that any better. My father never spoke to me of course, and for blessed months at a time I forgot he existed._

_            Hirumatsu taught us how to listen and hear things that most would not notice and what the sounds meant. He taught us the great value of silence, for speaking exposes the back to the knife. Where to find the advantage in battle as well as in situation became the same formula that was ground into our heads. In the end, we would emerge from the complex as the perfect danger; chalk full of honor and silence, enough to infuriate any foe. _

_            But Aria only stayed for two years. One day she smiled at me before leaving the dojo and I did not see her again. My training continued while she dwelt somewhere else. I longed to know what had happened to her, but the rules regarding speech had not relaxed since the day I arrived at the dojo. For two more years I underwent training in the way of duty fulfillment. One morning I awoke to find blood on my sheets and thought I was dying. I attempted to hide it at first, thinking it shameful to have soiled the sheets so, but the bleeding did not stop and I felt slightly ill. Knowing that it was a worse shame to hide the truth, I left the sheets there for my master to see. When he arrived and noted them, he simply instructed me to stand and receive my fear._

_            I was afraid, thinking that I would be commanded to commit suicide for my shame. But Hirumatsu did not give me the sword that I would have to slit my throat with as Samurai women do. He instead gave me a tiny glass ball, so fragile that it seemed breathing on it would cause it to shatter._

_            "When storm come, you stand at cliff and hold glass. If it break, you must return, if not break, you are woman and leave." He left me alone then, and a nurse soon came to attend me. I saw very little of people in those seven years, so interacting with her was not easy. She was kind and explained how my body had now changed to accommodate a child. At first I was frightened beyond control, thinking this meant I would have to bear a child right away. But the nurse soothed my fears and told me what I would come to expect. She did however indicate that my father would know of it and that he may want to see me now that I was a woman. I explained in return that I was not a woman until the ball came back from the cliff intact. The nurse paid no mind to my nonsense._

_            "I think when you leave here the master will order you into Lady's training. You'll be taught how to walk and talk; how to address people correctly and all that is required of a Countess." _

_            "Countess?"  _

_            "Oh yes My Lady, you are Countess of Mortaine and have been since your poor mother died. The title passes on to the eldest by our nation's law. We thought perhaps that the new Misses would claim it herself, but now that she is gone too you have retained it My Lady."_

_            "New Misses, what is all this, please explain to me."_

_            "Why you don't know Miss? Your father remarried some years ago. A lovely thing she was, but too frail like your mother. She had those two little angels and then became one herself less than a year hence."_

_            "My father has had more children?"_

_            "Why yes, two little dear twins. Mathius and Shireen. You finally have a brother and another sister to boot. I had no idea you were left in the dark about them. They are fine children, they are. Little Shireen looks just like you when you were just a babe. You take after your father, you do, and so do they. Its Miss Aria who took her mother's coloring, but she is a beauty too, and so graceful now. The Master has her learning the gun now. She is quite a shot I here. Won't that impress the lads on the continent? I suspect your father will want to take you there soon and have you meet all the young lords and generals. Plenty I am sure would roll in the dirt to be your husband."_

_            I was astounded into my customary silence at this news. I never fathomed that such change would come; a step mother come and gone without ever even meeting her, two more siblings that would be already five years old, my own body now capable of conception and a brood of men waiting to marry me? It was too much to be borne and I could not endure dwelling on the outside world that I had become a stranger to. Yet soon I would have to rejoin that world. If the glass broke I would be forced to leave my silent sanctuary of patience and blue matting. That knowledge tore at me and I melted my mind to find a way to escape or delay it._

_            There was only one way, and it was the fool's way. Yet such was my torment over the future that awaited me that I risked it. When the first storm came, one balmy spring night, I was sent out to a low Cliff side where the waves crashed and eroded the land. There, holding the fragile glass ball in my hands, I knelt at the cliff's edge and waited. It was terrifying indeed. One hand held tightly onto the drenched grass while the other held aloft the glass ball. The vacuum of wind pushed at my back, willing me over the edge while the ends of black waves grabbed at me. I was drenched by rain and salty surf and the lightening frightened me. A nearby lighthouse regularly illuminated the great tumult of the sea below me, where the water crashed upon the rocks. If I let the storm push me I would find myself dead among those rocks and waves. But I let those fears wash through me and concentrated on the ball. It was so light in my hand, and I knew that if I kept my mind on it, it would emerge unscathed from this test and I would be a woman._

_            And so, I clenched my fist around it and crushed it hard into my palm. Blood immediately poured down my arm and was washed away by the storm. The glass buried under my skin and I felt the pain of the abrasion keenly; knowing immediately what a fool I was to try to prolong the inevitable._

_            I returned to the Dojo and produced my bloody hand. Hirumatsu looked at it carefully and then examined my eyes trying to read them. But he had taught me too well and I hid it all from him, or so I thought._

_            "You woman now." And he bowed to me formally._

_            I looked down at him, for I was now several inches taller than he. He looked back and said nothing. His look told me that he was no longer my master and that the dojo was no longer my home. I could not accept this and so, knowing the punishment I would receive for breaking the rule, I questioned him._

_            "Woman do what must do to survive. You think you can no live outside Dojo. You crush ball to stay. But you know you not change anything. Girl not realize this, woman does. You are woman now. You leave dojo." He bowed again and opened the door. I took one last look at the dojo and went back to the house._

*******************


	5. Change of Scene and Mind

Chapter 4

Change of scene and mind

"What reason for anything can you give that would make me care again?"

~Analicia Delizabane

          Madame Lefrey's school for young women of privilege was something out of the old world. Its musty corridors attested to its age only a little less than its curriculum. Lying outside of Lyon, France, Lefrey's was the premiere of academies for young ladies of the Romafellar foundation. Since its founding in the first After Colony decades, it had educated the wives of the greatest Romafellar leaders and the most notable of western high society. Having graduated and passed through the gilded doors of Lefrey, a young woman was usually caught in a marriage contract from the most recent high graduates of Lake Victoria or Bektar Bianc Military academy almost immediately.  The women of Lefrey were established as beautiful, graceful, and socially obedient; the fashion of the time for Romafellar women. Even the dullest girl who was fortunate enough to be accepted was soon turned into a Goddess, fit to be married to any of the young or even old Romafellar Gods who were eligible.

           Of course, I did not know any of this initially. However, from the moment I set my eyes on the place, I despised it. It was large and overpowering. I knew from the start that the ceilings would be too high for me and the carpets too fine. I was not accustomed carpets, or high ceilings, or to luxury in any way, and now it appeared I would be poured out into this gold mold to be shaped into something pretty. Being only twelve and an irregular personality, I did not understand the necessity of making women pretty. But then I was taught not to notice such things. Master Hirumatsu had made it a lesson to ignore beautiful things to the point of not even being able to identify them. For that, I did not understand anything considered dazzling or precious. If one could not see the dazzling ight, one would not be blinded by it. It was suppose to be an important lesson for females and for me. Hirumatsu and my father obviously believed I would be confronted by such challenges in the walk of my life.

           In light of such a lesson, why was I now being sent to this decadent place? What had possessed my father to send me to the continent for Lady's training? It seemed utterly ridiculous to have spent years inside a sparse Dojo with no companionship to a huge decadent academy with many other young girls and a multitude of teachers. For what reason was I initially schooled in martial ideals and techniques and then banished to study needle work and curtseying? I did not know my father well but I believed him beyond such menial education as this; especially for one who would eventually lead our family. Would crocheting help me to better the conditions of the Isle? Any arguments I might have had at the time were moot, for none were concerned with my opinions.  

           I remember very clearly the car pulling up the long gravel drive to the large house. It was overly opulent; built in the Georgian fashion that still reigned supreme in the Foundation. In the Isle we had adopted a love for all things Napoleonic, and I found somewhat ironic that France should still embrace the style of a long dead English monarch, while we held tight to a French one. If I got a good laugh out of it I hardly remember, because I stopped laughing at anything rather quickly after arriving. My father had neither the patience nor inclination for this particular chore, as he so often had neither patience nor inclination in anything dealing with me. So he had not accompanied me to the school, but instead sent Bram Wickfield along.

 I was led through a grand archway and into the main hall by Bram. It was summer still but I wore the long black coat I had been dressed in when we arrived on the continent. Between my nervousness and the heat I made for a frightful sight. When the head mistress caught site of me as she came to greet us in the hall, she nearly had an embolism. I didn't understand why of course, not knowing anything about the importance of appearances in the world. Worst yet, I had lived a majority of my life barefoot in the Dojo. Shoes were the worst sort of constraint and I constantly fiddled with them and occasionally took them off to wiggle my toes unfettered. I had been scolded several times during the journey by Bram for this lack of "manners". There was nothing wrong as far as I perceived. I treated my elders with deference and respect and bowed accordingly. But most did not seem impressed with it and I continually thought on how to correct any aberration in my reverence. My bows and feet shuffling did not impress the head mistress of the school, Madame Duhamel; a stuffy women looking to be in her early forties. She stared at me with an odd expression; a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

"Are you certain this is Analicia Delizabane?" She asked Bram, bending down to examine me. She must have been expecting something different.

"Quite sure Madame."

"I was told to expect something far grander than this. Her birthright is not at all obvious in her bearing. How old is she?"

"Twelve, Madame."

"TWELVE! Goodness no, I cannot possibly take in someone so dishieveled at that age. At eight perhaps or even ten she may well improve in enough time. But twelve is too old." She stood up and settled hands on hips. "No indeed, No indeed. A proper bearing is the first skill learned and if she does not have it by now, then she will not learn at all. We have standards in Romafellar. Standards that must be met or who will look at her? It would shame the school I tell you, and her as well! Look at her, she is almost wild looking, it is hard to say if that is even a girl under there. She is so coltish that she might pass as a boy. No femininity at all. Lord Delizabane had best send me his second daughter without delay. I can get results with her if we work quickly. But this one . . .  no, not this one."  I shuffled more deliberately, having found that the woman saw it as offensive and being very offended myself at her speech.

Bram shook his head without deference.

"Twelve will do fine." 

"What? I just told you it was too old."

"And I just told you it will do fine."

"Mr. Wickfield, it is impossible, she is clearly beyond hope."

"You have yet to even speak to her and have not been in her presence for more than five minutes. That is hardly an acceptable assessment."

"I think I am in enough of a position to judge the young lady's character here and now! I have been head mistress of this school for seven years. I know a tomboy when I see one. Look at her, for God's sake man, she can barely keep still. Her hair is coarsely kept and her shoes are on the wrong feet. If this doesn't show it I don't know what will."

Bram looked down and observed me for a time; his inclined head noting with disapproval the arrangement of my shoes. I shrunk back a little in shame, yet not understanding why I should feel so.

"Mr. Wickfield, do you really expect this one to make it through Lefrey's? She is as plain a piece as they come. There is not a single feature that is striking or remarkable, not even a noble bearing. Do you honestly expect young men to look at her one day? Perhaps Merrick Delizabane thinks that because his family is in the upper stratosphere of Romafellar that his daughter will automatically ensnare a husband. He should in that case think again. There are many young men who will be of age as she is of age. The Weyridge boys, the Dolmen twins, and at least one of the Khushrenadas; they will be the premiere bachelors among the next crop and the girls attending this academy will be perceived as their perfect and natural compliment in marriage. It would degrade Lefrey's as much as it would degrade Miss Analicia to have her attend. Now, I suggest you take her and go at once. I will be charitable as it is a Lady's place to be and mention this to no one. So the girl's reputation will not be stained by the rejection." 

Madame Duhamel bowed in a dismissing fashion. Bram rubbed his forehead for a moment and then turned to the door. I stood in place; red faced and deeply ashamed that I was not acceptable. A part of me was even angry that I had been judged so rapidly. When he reached the door to the hallway Bram's hand curved around the knob while the other went to the lock. He snapped the lock in place and confirmed the knob immovable. The head mistress sniffed at the insult and raised her head in a superior fashion. Bram came back to my side casually.

"Mr. Wickfield, I really must insist." Madame Duhamel admonished.

"Leecy" He answered and I looked up at the name I had not been called in so long.

"What?" The Head Mistress asked in confusion.

"Her name is Analicia, but she likes to be called Leecy."

"I would say it hardly matters at this point, sir. She –"

"Her name is Leecy and she will be attending this school. Twelve will do just fine."

"Mr. Wickfield!"

"Twelve will do fine because Lord Delizabane wishes it so. If he must be informed that twelve is unacceptable than I will have no trouble informing him. The information will not be welcome however, to either him or your school."

She stood there mute as Bram continued.

"If twelve is not acceptable then I am afraid the benefactors of the Madame Lefrey's academy will be informed as well. The resulting actions will likely cause the school to be closed and its head mistress to be out of both position and respectability."

Her eyes widened.

"How dare you! You think Merrick Delizabane is high enough to displace the benefactors of Lefrey's. It's a scandal to threaten us so and I shall be sure Romafellar hears of it. We have the most powerful families in all of Romafellar backing us. Not a single family can denounce us."

"Would you like to test that?" He asked in return.

"We have rejected girls and been threatened before, Mr. Wickfield. I am not impressed anymore by Lord Delizabane's threat than by any other."

Bram smirked in a way I had never known before but would come to know quite well in the future.

"You should be. Merrick Delizabane's threats are not the continental type. We do not often take the unnecessary road. If there is only a single barricade blocking the route, then there is no need to destroy the entire road, neh?" I clearly remember the stout woman choking a little indignantly. Her face did not keep its arrogance long. Bram pushed me aside and behind him as he opened up his coat a bit for Madame Duhamel to see inside. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped at the sight. I heard a slight clicking noise.

"Perhaps the more immediate situation at hand will better sway you. Rest assured that Merrick Delizabane is confident in your ability to properly train his daughter in the necessary arts of society, of which he has prepared a list of emphasized subjects. You will ignore some of the more antiquated subjects and concentrate more on the development of social diplomacy. I have a list of languages she is to learn and other areas she will have strong focus in. If teachers are unavailable for the required curriculum we have set forth, then Lord Delizabane will have additional tutors brought in. You will of course always give Leecy special considerations and ensure she receives a well rounded education here Madame Duhamel." The clicking sound continued. "We are in agreement?"

Madame Duhamel looked like a bloated fish that was released into the air. She was struggling to breathe and her mouth was wide as if to suck in air that wasn't there. It took her several seconds to answer Bram with a strong nod. Whatever he had presented her with; she now most definitely agreed it was the best course of action.

"Trust that if Leecy has any difficulty here we will know and take the proper action." He added as he turned solemnly to me. He bent down to be level with my face and spoke tenderly.

"You will always keep true to your family and tell us if they mistreat you in anyway. You must remember who you are and let that knowledge raise you above where others might put you. But do not rise too high, remember your training, Leecy, and carry yourself properly. All will be well." He waited for me to agree and I did obediently. I remember his hand squeezing my shoulder and his almost smile. Then he rose and took his leave of us, unlocking the door and moving out.

Madame Lefrey's looked upon me, her walls creaked and her skirt rustled. My pants did not. Her Head Mistress took note of that and sniffed. Sniffing up and back, repeatedly, at first in disgust then in something more physical, she looked at me with increasing dismay. I suppose today that the threat Bram had presented her with was finally starting to sink in. But to me at the time it seemed as if she was going to be sick all over her fine carpet.

 I knew little of illness at this time, having never been around much of it. I should really have done something about that earlier. But it occurred to me that Madame Lefrey seemed to be in a disorder. Her hands shook and her face had deepened in color, something like the inside of a grapefruit, or so I supposed that's what the inside of grapefruit looked like. But regardless of comparisons, it occurred to me that part of the reason I was here was to learn proper behavior, and I had read something of politeness in one of irregular novels that had crossed my bed in the Dojo. Being that the case I decided that I would show Madame Duhamel that I was not beyond all hope by being polite enough to ask after her health. I began carefully.

"Are you ill, Madame?" 

She choked all the more after that question. I wondered at the matter, but it did not occur to me to be frightened, only more polite. Obviously my politeness was not satisfactory and she was declaring her disgust in a physical way. Well, this called for a more aggressive strategy of politeness. I did not know enough about this art of politeness. Perhaps there were a prerequisite number of words to properly address this lady. I could tell my delay was only upsetting her all the more, for she was now coughing and banging at her chest

"Please excuse my inadequacy, Madame. Is there something the matter with you?"

Madame Duhamel gnashed her teeth together; glowering down at me. I looked up at her with no real concern, only a mass of confusion. I was trying to reword my next combination of politeness when she seized my wrist and jerked me aside, bending down into an almost supplicant crouch. The hands that had been banging her chest were better employed now in shaking my arms. Grapefruit was no longer the best fruit for her face. Something like a plum would do better. 

"We must make this work, young Lady. We must make this work. Look at you, you! In pants like a tomboy and your shoes are on the wrong feet. Oh dear Lord, we must make this work. We must. And you are going to be the one who makes it work Miss Analicia. Madame Lefrey's cannot be suspended, not for the sake of one such as you. And I . . . I . . ."  I grew angry.

"Perhaps you will care to enlighten me on the particulars of one such as me, since you seem to have your own theory on who and what I am that clearly clashes with my own!" I rasped out at her.

She floundered in her agitation and beat her palm against the floor and I saw her ruddy face swollen with exasperated tears. At once her hands left my shoulders and went to her temples where they aided in her wailing and over-all distress. Then her expression stalled, as if she just realized another fatality.

"Oh, Miss Analicia. I'm sorry. Please, please forgive those words. There… there is nothing wrong with you, of course. It's just, we cannot … well, you see. I think we must keep you away from the other students for now. Yes, we should tutor you privately inside the school. We can arrange that, yes!" an ecstasy of eye wiping. "We will give you a private room, no, private apartments, and send those special tutors. Yes, that's what we can do until you are caught up with the class enough to not be… conspicuous. Does that agree with you..uh… Countess, wasn't it? Countess Delizabane?"

I just looked at her. Deferring to me? What a very odd woman she was. I was still held up in some doubt as to her physical well-being; even a little curious about her mental health. In any case I had listened mildly to what she had said, waiting for an opportunity to speak. During her excitement it occurred to me that this was one of the hidden advantages Hirumatsu had taught me to sniff out. This woman, put in such a state over me, could be also bent according to my will. Unfortunately, I had no will at this time. So I thought it best to pocket the advantage until it became necessary. Perhaps I should lull her into thinking I was an uncomprehending muddle-head who would never understand anything around her. Yes! How wicked that could be! Smother her with girlish politeness and hidden double meanings, so she would never know if I was a threat or a safety. Excellent! After all, if she thought the worst of me, I might as well give her the worst of myself. Kill her with kindness, yes, that was the means. When she finally ceased her blubbering speech I tried out my newest combination.

"Madame Duhamel, it is quite apparent…." I stalled for a moment, making sure I was phrasing it correctly and with a good amount of words. "..That at this present time you are not at all in proper spirits. Should we, being as responsible and sensitive to our situation as we are, call upon some physician to see to you in your present crisis?"

The troubled lady gaped at me, slowly narrowing her eyes until she was sure she had me figured out. Looking back I can see full the suspicion and conspiracy born in her eyes even as I pretended to be blind to it then.. But my Master had taught me to attack a situation in its kind. Being that this was a school for Ladies, polite diplomacy would have to be my ignorant solution. I would soon learn. But at that moment, Madame Duhamel rose rather dramatically from her knees and once again took her matronly stance above me.

"I see your meaning girl. Well, I think it's clear what kind of mind we have in you. You will no doubt be all eyes upon me and be the little bird ready to sing into your father's ear. Well, this is no new game to me, Little Mistress. This is the world of Romafellar, after all. And perhaps you are further a long in mind, if not in appearance and in… essential grace. But no, we shall not call upon "some physician" as you so aptly put it. There is no need for that Mistress. We will accommodate you. But you must understand that if I bring you out into the open in such an untrained condition, the other girls will know you for the embarrassment you are to the school, and word will get back to the families. I must protect the interests of Madame Lefrey's. So we shall engage you privately until you are ready. But I will beware of you." Her eyebrows drew and withdrew in a conspirator understanding where there existed no conspiracy at all, only my wicked child's game. I can only laugh to remember her.

"I should think whatever means you decide upon to teach me will be suitable. I only wish to learn what is to be useful to my family." I tried following with the agreeable smile I had read about in those novels. It seemed a satisfactory agreement to Madame Duhamel. She nodded and acquiesced. "Privately then." She motioned for me to exit the room, whereupon she called for an attendant to take me to my rooms. I had come with nothing. No clothes, no shoes, nothing more than what I wore on my back and the uncomfortable shoes on my feet. This did not seem to be a problem, however. 

"Send one of those beauty pirates to her. They will fix her up appropriately." 

********************************************************************

Beauty pirates, I was to learn, were beauticians and fashion coordinators of the most useless and decadent sort. They lived within the nearby city and had made a variable empire out of the superficial needs of Madame Lefrey's school. Once I was situated in my apartments (which was an extraordinary thing in itself. No child at Lefrey's regardless of status was given anymore than two rooms.) they arrived in a flourish of flamboyance and idiocy. Then, they proceeded to make a dolly out of me. I was gripped, groped, pulled, tangled, pulled again, straightened, curled, tucked in, and pushed up; all the while the fools fondled and complimented my hair and face even as they jabbed and pulled at it. It did not take me five minutes to despise them all. I would have given my beautiful hair and face for a katana to rid them of theirs.

The difficulty came with the shoes. As history will tell up to this point, I was not in favor of shoes, having lived most of my life without them. They were not the tender little ivory pedals of Romafellar girls. They had been worked and roughened to endure stress. I could have stood upon a black metal bulkhead at high noon in August for all the time in the world and not have felt any discomfort. My feet were good enough shoes without shoes. Besides that, they made me trip, especially these new ones. They had heels like metal doorstoppers and I felt like I was forever walking downhill. Soon enough I began falling downhill as I took one unsuccessful step after a crashing other. What ridiculousness this was? How was this beauty? I looked at myself when I was able to reach a mirror, although it took a while to get their in the hideous foot contraptions. 

My face was transformed, painted and accented with light and darkness. My violated hair was upswept and falling back in some kind of full cascade. What they had done to my ears was the most outrageous. Holes! Holes in my ear lobes from which they hung jewels. The dress they had put me in was barely anything at all. Just a swatch of red over my body and it constricted my breathing.

"What is this?" I turned and demanded of the pirates. They giggled a little and murmured to each other what they liked and what they thought could use some work on me, like I was a walking mannequin. They did not hear me.

"This is not me! Why have you made me look like something else?" I practically yelled. This was outrageous! What a disgraceful, insulting accomplishment they now congratulated each other on.

"Mistress is quite beautiful now. You look so much older Miss, at least seventeen." They cooed, almost in chorus. I began wondering if they had no individual brains, but just some dull collective mind.

"But I am not seventeen. This is all just a masking of the truth. Is this beauty?"

"Beauty is all illusion, Mistress."

"Why is it so important?" I wondered. I could not be aesthetically pleased at all by the appearance of people. So I had no understanding of the uses of beauty or attractiveness. It was completely transparent to me, utterly meaningless. Were people so foolish as to be drawn in by this deceit? Until I could find sufficient reasoning behind this madness, I would have no part in it. Deciding thus, I ripped the earring from my ear, kicked off each high heeled shoe and promptly tossed all at the giggling mass of pirates; commanding them off. They scampered like rats and I made to the bathroom to dress my wounded ears. I needed to learn more about this. Hirumatsu had always advised to take part in no plot until the advantage is clear. When I had seen to my ears, I put a heavy rob over the tight dress and went in search of answers.

They did not take long to find. My explorations soon dulled my ire over the make-over and I was drawn into a curious stupor over this estate. As luck would have it, my rooms had been placed in the same wing as the only really important room in the mansion. The school's library was grand indeed. Very secluded and out of the way from the wing's main corridor, the great room lay down a side hallway. It was vast, and filled to the brim with a coffer of volumes, undoubtedly someone's personal collection. I was enchanted, and quite alone. So I spent the better part of the evening sifting through books, determined to find something in the volumes to answer my question. I picked up a number of Greek plays and myths that bore flourished titles in gilded settings. Those seemed to me overly opulent, and so I reasoned might shed some light on this beauty issue. Then, with my arms full of volumes, I went to the door, when a book caught my eye by at the edge of the book case. It looked old, falling apart really, and out of place amongst the rest of the golden colored collections it was next to. 

My curiosity once again claiming me in victory, I put down the Greek books and pulled out the black title. A Latin word I was not familiar with stood out, underneath stood the words "The Account" I opened the first page and saw, to my immediate heart pull, a map of the Nation, as it had looked before the Third Great War. I stared at how vast it was, spanning two seas and a gulf, so expansive, so grand. Above it and below it were words that read Canada and Mexico. A great Gulf that stood between the borders of the Nation and its southern neighbor curved in like the breast of mother earth. It was beautiful, and its name so lost now. The world referred to it as North Columbia, the sister continent to South Columbia. Canada was only known as the Canadian providence of North Columbia, the south referred to enough to be given a conventional name. Just a wide space now, called North Columbia. They had Re-Romanized the name of the founding sailor who had discovered the lands centuries before, dubbing it Columbia in a hastened effort to extinguish the name of America from the current world. They even went so far as to rename South America, so much did they need the name, the reference of that land, the one she now ran her fingers over, to be erased. 

The book was by an American, a citizen of the Great Democracy it had housed. It was his account, his account of the last days of the Nation. I snatched it up and put it on top of my pile. This was important information for me. I would read this book first. 

I reclaimed my pile; black book tucked beneath my chin and found my way back to the rooms.

***************************

The true grit of the book about the United States of America, I will not get into. I will say, however, that it allowed me to understand the zeal of my countrymen better. There were many unanswered questions and so I put the book away with only stand aside thoughts to remind me of its existence. Amusing in the end that I of all people should have at once time been so disinterested in the great "Nation", but this was the case. Applications of study were all that mattered to me at the time. 

When the tutors of special order had arrived from my father, I addressed with them some of the more pressing questions the small black book had raised. My tutors, who were usually frightened, small men from the Isle (I will not bore you with names, for frankly I do not remember them myself), would never fully explain. They were delighted at my interest in the Nation, but advised me to put aside _The Account. So I took to answering my own questions._

One night, in August, only a few months since my initial arrival, I stood lingering on the balcony outside my room. The night air was fresh and innocent smelling; still. The stillness drew me out. It was good to practice skills of hearing when the air was still. A noise would inevitably break through, and listening, listening with eyes shut, answers were found.

Tight shut, tight as a clothed drum, my eyelids bore into each other. The wind came up just once, but it did not disturb my answers. I pressed the night air for more stillness, and it complied. The Account drifted through my mind. The questions followed it. It was all slowly done. First, each question drew forth and caressed the book, rubbing against its pages, its story, loving it, begging it for a piece. My questions were cats fawning for an address, dogs petitioning for a bone. The book did not yield and then the wind came up. I pressed it back and pulled the stillness back around the book. The questions became impatient. Now they were small birds, pecking and taking bits away. But the book still did not yield. Finally, they became fierce, attacking and picking it apart. They ate at the black book like carrion birds, my questions. The skeleton that remained, its desolate shell, finally yielded to me all that was left. 

But unfortunately for my countrymen, there sparked the beginning of something terrible, terrible for them at least, they who put so much in the book that had all but been devoured in my head. It was as if my thoughts became small tendrils and curled around each other and soon took on a new shape. The corpse of the book, decaying already, was that rot I smelled now in the wind? The remains mixed and blended with the thoughts, the tendrils wrapping around it. They did not devour it as one would expect. The shreds of The Account embraced the attacking questions and together they gave birth to their enduring child; my doubt. My faithful companion of these longest years, my true mate, my lifeline.

 Perhaps that may sound trivial, but my mind as you will eventually see was not a trivial thing for my countrymen.

The stillness broke just as my beloved doubt was born. I would almost venture to believe in fate at this moment, for what had broken the stillness of the air was not a leaf falling in the wind, nor a night critter skittering across the field beyond.

Below the balcony, were sat the Grecian style atrium that announced the small rose garden and field beyond, a voice was heard. It was low and hurried, scolding. I pressed myself up against the cold stone railing to see the source. A potted plant obstructed my view. Why on earth do they put plants in such stupid places? My neck craned about the great leafy thing. The voice was still there, and still low. But I could see nothing. Unacceptable! They were directly below, but the plant hindered me. 

"If something hinders, it must be removed."

It took a decent push to send the stone pot over the side of the balcony. It ground against the stone of the balcony railing and then descended; dirt and leaf flying out to meet gravity. Then the pot met its destiny in a dozen or so pieces, mingling with the broken stone of the atrium floor. The crash was loud and resounded against the mansion's outer walls.

"Shit!" the voice replied to the crash, now hurried and alarmed, but still hushed. He was not totally stupid, still holding enough of himself in check to not yell out his alarm.

He emerged, a young man, quite young, a boy by this light, but it was hard to be sure. He was not tall, average height for a boy. Dirt christened his coat and he pulled himself out into the open to look above to where the assault had come from. I supposed his shoulders were too noble to have been sullied by pot soil. He looked up and saw me immediately. His mouth was open and the set of his jaw showed just how anxious the plant had made him. I smiled at that, all upset over a plant.

He scowled at me of all things. Mouth clenches shut now as if a hundred things he meant to yell were clogging his throat. In response, his face turned red and I expected an asphyxiated blue to follow. Not so lucky as to be able to see by the meager light on night, his face returned to a normal color and his scowl drew upwards into a less harsh but still hard expression. I do so love examining people's expressions. They always expose the lies that saturate the voice. I could see it even then, that he was trying hard to lie with his face. Now everything looked as if he had just been injected with Novocain, all loose and without any articulation. That was a great lie there. I loved expressions, but I think I loved lies even more.

"It was a Morning Glory vine" he called up to me. I thought that was queer. He seemed too indignant a moment ago to have noticed what kind of plant was in the pot. I shook my head down at him folding my arms over each other as I leaned on the stone balcony rail. "It was my doubt flower" That must have vexed him! It delights me still to think of how it must have vexed him.

"Why are you up there? The Student Dormitories are on the first level."

"Why are you down there? The Student Dormitories are for females alone"

"I wanted a peek"

"And I turned on the light for you" I pointed down to the corners of the manor where lights were being turned on. The faculty had been awakened by the crash of the pot on the stone atrium floor and was now running to see what had happened. The school was going off like a flare gun now. The boy saw with alarm and called inside to his companion.

"Damn. Hey! Come out of there!" he disappeared under the balcony and emerged again with a second boy who was shorter than he but by the limited light they looked the same age.

"What the hell?" the new arrival whispered harshly.

"We have to go. Juliet up there called her kinsmen on Romeo" I missed the reference, having not read any Shakespeare at the time. But the two were off across the field after giving me a glaring look. I lost sight of them and consequently interest in them. Instead I ventured back into my darkened room where I began again pondering my newly fashioned doubt of all things.

Madame Duhamel adored in her night robe and looking like the mistress of clowns that she was came rushing in with a retinue of other employees. They were also gathering outside underneath my balcony and I could hear the excited tinkle of girlish voices below. 

"Miss Analicia! What happened? What took place here?" I turned rather slowly on my bed to face her, yawning before I spoke.

"I pushed the plant off my balcony." I answered her indifferently.

"What?" Indignation, it was so easy to inspire at Lefrey's.

"I pushed the plant off."

"Explain yourself!" She demanded. Thinking of what the boy had said about Juliet and kinsmen, and knowing how I was intrigued by lies, I answered her thusly.

"It displeased me. So I rid myself of it. The Atrium may have it. It will be better appreciated there."

This did not appease Madame Duhamel. She scowled so heavily I thought her drawn eyebrows would fall right off her face. Her voice was raised when she spoke next, telling me how I had upset the whole household, defaced the property, and nearly exposed myself to the other students. Again and again she repeated how ashamed I must be of myself. But instead of feeling anything like it, I felt jubilant. I laughed and tossed at her demands for my shame. My doubt wrapped around me like an insulating snow, making me not care. I remembered what Bram had said to me in regards to this place and how he had insisted that I should be allowed to stay by right of ruin. The power to ruin Lefrey's was in my hands and I could exercise it whenever I chose. My loving doubt kept me away from all care for what I might do here. What did it matter now? Nothing was set in reality anymore. 

"I don't feel ashamed. I don't think you know what I should feel Madame. But shame is reserved for particular dishonors." I remembered it as Hirumatsu had taught it to me. "I don't think you know that kind of shame." Then, another creation of mine made its debut; a taunting and malevolent smile that has served me so well.

"I can teach you that kind of shame Madame, if that is your wish." 

Oh, she knew instantly my meaning. Her face took on the asphyxiated blue I had expected in the boy. My smile outlasted her cerulean shade.

My merry games with Madame Duhamel at Lefrey's never ceased to entertain me

. 


	6. Asunder

All Standard Disclaimers apply

**_Warning: This chapter contains non-consensual_**

**_Sexual content_**

****

Chapter 5

 Strange memories on this night in Dover. It is night now, I am certain of that. Gabriel had long departed but I paid him no mind even as he stayed.  It was easy for me to do to him. I can't say when he left, but I do know that it was night. Time was always a slippery thing with me, even in those younger years. Time moved on and away, whiling here and there throughout the ivy-tattered bricks of Lefrey's gray house, often abandoning me along with the rest of the jewel-box bound inhabitants for months at a time. In some ways it seemed as if we were all locked in a museum, exhibited and ushered about for the enjoyment of unseen watchers.  I felt sure in my deeper chambers, that Lefrey's was so removed from The Isle as to be on the other side of the world or in a removed dimension. And with this sense of removal and abandon of time and place, I frequently felt displaced and melancholy. So much did I long for the Isle and its non existent comforts, that I shunned whatever luxury was about me. For weeks I slept on the floor. I came to prefer that to the weakness of cot or bed. Though, I was often weakened by a need for consolation that I snuck pleasures away from my situation.

Lefrey's seasons were not as changeable as that of The Isle, where rain intruded on Moor and seascape alike. There was always pleasant breeze that often whispered its way into my room and brought some relaxation to my spirit. Rain was never constant, but only a visiting friend that washed clean it's friendship with the world every few weeks. I had learned a love of nature from my time at Lefrey's, one that I still carry with me, for though I knew no companion during those first few years, I was never alone. My admirable wind, my sun, and weeping fields beyond the atrium kept me in the good faith of my isolation. I enjoyed the isolation as it gave my doubt room to grow. It was these luxuries I stole from time to abandoning time, being that I was free to move about the school as I would, never having interest in the other students. I was never enlivened by a sense of competition. Indeed, I was rarely enlivened by anything, something Mr. Treize would remark upon in his overly poetic way. "Death hangs on you like musk" he would often say. In life he certainly took the deeper inhales of that musk.

But I will agree with him, though it is against my custom to do so. I was like walking death in those times. Barely alive or invigorated over anything, I was passing and wilted like a leaf that has seen its autumn to full. This is not to say that I was a sad sight, I was simply apathetic; a quality that still clings to my spirit even now or perhaps you wonder why I have not spoken in these twelve days? Madame Duhamel did not trouble about me. I think she was fairly well frightened of me by this time. (What time was it again? Time abandons me so easily that I lost interest in it many years ago. ) 

But I am rambling. Let us move to something of consequence.  The season and occasion that Aria came to Lefrey's.

I cannot say at what point it occurred, for as I have said, I did not keep track of time. But after a particularly tedious lesson in German. I was informed that I would be joining the students the following week in the regular classes. Perhaps this should have delighted me, but I felt little towards it. It would be a change of routine and most likely a bother to my own daily trains of thought. There was no fear of embarrassment for me. If I cared little for what the faculty thought of me, I thought even less for the sentiments of the student body. By this time I had mastered wearing shoes of all sorts. I could balance a book on my head and walk if needed be. I had even learned to tolerate the beauty pirates for a record sixteen minutes before I threatened them with bodily harm and banished them from me. All in all, it was a decent improvement. I took liberally from the library and seldom returned the books. My father's tutors often complained of my lack of enthusiasm and were often upset by my apathy and what they deemed "disrespect" towards my heritage. But I always retorted that I should be taught something about my heritage if I was to appreciate it. They responded that I could do with less cheek and more modesty. I usually dismissed them within a fortnight. 

Yes, I was getting to full of myself, too confident in my own instincts, too careless in my burning bridges. But I was far from the point where alliances would be carefully crafted and preserved like the word of God. When I joined the students in their first morning class, there was excessive whispering and I was very conscious of it. I was given a brief introduction, to which, when I asked, I expanded little on. They were all given my name, my country and my age. Madame Duhamel gave the introduction herself. I listened closely to be sure she did not mock me in any hidden way. After the trivial ceremony I was given my seat. The girl next to me stared. She was a slight, red-haired thing with eyes that sloped downward. I did not care much for her gaping as it distracted me and so, forgetting all Lefrey's manners, I turned to her and stared back.

"Miss Analicia, may I have your attention, please?" The instructor prettily asked when my staring back had caused the entire classroom to watch.

"When I am finished here." 

"It is impolite to stare." A dark-haired girl behind me muttered.

"One good turn deserves another." 

The red-haired downward gaper looked mortified that I had called attention to her. It was very poorly done on my part. I had been indulged out of fear and given the run of my days and environment for the first time in my life.  In short, I had come to be very spoiled at Lefrey's. It was all done very poorly by me. I laughed at her then, and muttered that she was a weak little thing as she ran out of the class crying. Terribly done, the girl might have been an outcast among the group of students at the school for all I knew. She might have been a timid and meek young thing, a kind of character I had not encountered until that then. It seemed to me that all creatures so easily moved to tears were deserving of their censure. But at that time, with the education I had received in my homeland, there was but one tolerable kind of personality, the strong kind. It was a Dog eats dog world. It was all done very badly, by the ignorant and insensitive child I was then.

Needless to say, I did not win many friends by this action. But I was spared the initial pain of caring at least, as long as I had my books. With their comfort I had no need of friendship. It was a fantastically immature plan that failed miserably. Books are fine companions when you do not leave your room. But when you are surrounded everyday by those who will not accept you and obviously shun you, the books are too quiet for your starved spirit. My mind longed to have one to talk to and to tell things to. The books could only tell me one story at a time, and none of which I was a player in. I needed a real friend, and desperately. But I had insulted the whole student body beyond redemption by the end of the first week; insulted them with my arrogance and my insensitivity. There were numerous occasions were the nicer of the students sought me out to ask me about the Isle, for they were all very curious about it. Not knowing a lot about my homeland myself, and being shamed by that, I gave them vague impressions of the place. They most likely thought me too arrogant to give them any real details. My ignorance was veiled by a specter of pride. My ignorance would come to ultimately undo me at Lefrey's, and undo Lefrey's as well. For you see, I did not realize how malicious the offended mind can be. I should have known this, that human's do not forget slights and seldom need reason to attack. My training should have taught me to be wary of unexpected advances. There are always things to learn and always hard ways to learn them.

During the forth week of classes following my integration, that gut wrenching feeling of failure and humiliation first acquainted itself with my innards. Vespertine Agrevienne was the name of my transgressor and a greater serpent I had met until my time in the heart of the Rhineland. I believe she was from the Mediterranean side of France, or to whomever it belonged to at that time. It might have been all Alliance by then. What I remember of her physically was that she was petite; squat in my opinion, with gray eyes and her hair seemed to be just skin that had grown down in long swirling thatches that darkened towards the ends. Her lashes jutted out like spider legs and I always had the sense of a damp musty draft when she was around me, like cold raw feet in March; almost grotesque, but all in just enough proportion to give her an odd beauty that catered to the artistic personality.

She had, a week before the frightful event, come to my room late one night. Lights-out was in effect, though I was exempt due to Duhamel's increasing fear of my displeasure. But Vesper had come knocking all the same and I had answered. She didn't wait for invitation to come in, but inelegantly pushed all obstacles aside and was soon standing in the middle of my suite. Her gray eyes scanned the room robotically, her arms folded over breasts hidden by a white standard –issue silk nightgown. I could feel the air dampening.

"This is quite the set up" her voice was accented. Yes, French, very French. I said nothing. I already wanted her out before mold started growing on the walls.

"I like the curtains, and the terrace, and all the other luxuries. Would you care to explain it?" She turned to me, accusingly. I didn't answer.

"Have you been in the dormitories? This is a nice school of course, but we have nothing like this! You live like a Princess and have claim to nothing but Isle blood."

I arched a brow at her. She smiled and assumed a friendly demeanor.

"There is no real shame in it of course. The Isle is ancient like the rest of our families. Though we know little about your name and little about your land since no one is allowed to go there. But of course there is no real shame in it." She giggled.

"Just the other kind of shame?" I asked, sarcastically. Her giggling faded and she grimaced.

"What are you holding over their heads?" I wouldn't have been surprised if she had spit a snake at me after the manner of those words. "Your polluted blood should by all rights not be allowed within five hundred miles of this school, or this country! We don't recognize any nobility in your bloodline! You are no more than a radioactive raving bloodline that would have saved the world an unsavory sight if it had just gone up in smoke like the rest of your dirty kind did!" She advanced towards me like a spark from an inferno. I was a little shocked at how quickly she had gone from a friendly facade to ferocity. But I was myself rapidly becoming indignant, though trying to heed my sensei by not becoming enraged at the terrible condemnation of my people.

"We don't want you here. You have no place here, and everyone knows your presence is a hoax! You are not supposed to be here. Go back to the Isle and go mad like your people always do."

Ah! But AH! I knew how to cut this one. I knew the best way to behead a flower in her full bloom of rage. This was what Hirumatsu had taught me, to find advantage and slit throats with it.

"At least I have a country to go back to. When I am done here, I will return to my land and continue on towards ruling my family." I walked back to the door and opened it.

"And you will be auctioned off to the highest bidder, becoming just another Alliance whore." Smirk, smirk, smirk to emphasize the truth of it. Her eyes gaped then glared at me, swampy and severe. 

"Lights are out for you. Go to bed little princess, enjoy the Dormitories." She started storming out of the room but stopped on the threshold.

"We can make you leave! Before you even know we have done it you will be gone. And-" she was cut off, for my hand, independently as I recalled fluttered about her; curling near her neck.

I flicked the carotid artery in her neck that was sticking out in ire. I think I saw the chill that raised the flesh of her arms only to be warmed by a red flush. My hand was snatched in a vice grip I wouldn't have imagined Vespertine was capable of. A quick curl of her lips and I found my finger within her mouth, her tongue rolling over it. I pulled it back quickly and stepped away until my back was met with the wall. I felt the dampness of her air and my stomach rolled, like I was locked in a cellar, like too much wine, like rotten fruit and arsenic.

"Touch not least ye be touched. This is the world of Romafellar. If you want to remain with us, you might start learning how we operate." I was aghast and tried not to show it.

"You are only a few years older than I. Hardly an expert on the 'we' of Romafellar" I answered shakily; damnably shaken, damnably! Vespertine stepped closer until she was against me. Her breath was on my collar bone and I felt like I could sink into the wood at my back to escape that damp air she projected.

"We grow up fast in this world. We know things at a young age." A cold hand on my chin, her small stature seemed enormous to me now. I was afraid; my advantage had been swept away by this . . . unexpected turn of events. "You are not without charm and certain prettiness . . ." her curving lips fell artfully where her breath had chilled my collarbone.

Her head seemed to jump quickly to the side and the red welts my nails had scoured across her cheek bled within seconds. She has cradling her hand, the one I didn't even remember removing from my chin and bending in an unnatural direction until it snapped. The heat of anger and her rush of need for me had made her face red so that her eyes seemed white and spectral in her head. Her body moved like a swimming reptile as she cleared from the room into the darkness of the hall.

It was unexpected at that time, such an advance upon me by one of my sex. I was not acquainted with much sexuality at that time beyond the scientific facts of it. I was by this time fourteen years old and while not sexually responsive to my environment, I did know that my particular tastes did not run to women, even if I gave men very little though in that kind. I was still quite young and undoubtedly a late bloomer.

But one who was at that time among the girls of the Dormitories would enlighten me later to exactly the nature of student bodies at Lefrey's. My prophecy of Vespertine as an Alliance whore might be in some circles considered not at all prophetic but a current fact. She was sixteen years old and had been without virginity for enough time to be considered a veteran. Many young men of various academies knew Lefrey's for exactly what it was: a place to train the future wives, mistresses, and playthings for the gentlemen of the Alliance. The girls that attended understood this too, and spent their nights in practices that pertain to those hours even as their days were engaged in more mentionable activities. The young man I had seen under my balcony and his companion where undoubtedly there to check the progress of the students and to offer advanced tutorials. 

"You have seen them on some nights, half the Dormitory would be engaged with each other. Very indulgent and very experimental." My informant would later tell me. Alliance Whores, to be sure. Did my father know this? To be sure. He had hoped I would master sexual power as well as those of intellect and fighting. He wanted all my possibilities covered.

I do not now, and never will condemn a single one of those girls for what they were and what they became. For in the end, I was their queen.

But my losses had not come to be expected yet. I still only looked for and expected gains. It came swiftly after my rejection of Vespertine's advances and I realized it quickly. It had been a mere week since the affair, or lack of, with Vespertine when, in the middle of the day, I found myself completely overcome with sickness. We were out in the fields on equestrian exercise when I pulled my horse away from the main group. I didn't notice that some followed me. I dismounted and passed through the trees in search of shade and privacy. My stomach roiled and was lost among the brush. I was dizzy. My head hurt. My vision blurred. My skin burned. My bones softened and ceased their support of my skin and organs. I crawled. I collapsed. I bled. I wrenched. 

Then I smelled the damp air and knew that what blocked out the sun was not the trees, but people standing over me, not many people, but enough. I felt like I was dying and then I felt cold. Dimly, I knew I was cold because my clothes were gone; I was covered now by chilled repellent skin. There was a whisper, a grunt, the breaking of a branch and the rustle of leaves; far off, the whinny of horses along the trails. I was under attack and I could not repel it! Help me! Something help me! Let me wake up so I can escape! Let me wake up!

_Wake up! _

_Shaking.__ Cold. Empty._

_Wake up, NOW!  _

_A man, I can smell him._

_She hasn't eaten in three days._

_Full now, of what I don't want. _

_That won't do. She is required to eat._

_Parted! Tearing! Rent!_

_Wake her up!_

_Humiliated! Stop it!_

_Analicia__!_

_A man, I can smell him. He smells cold._

_Shaking.__ Thrashing!_

_Stop! Get off me! I'll kill you!_

_Rent! Broken! Torn! Taken!_

_I'll kill you!_

_LEECY!_

_Wake up! Taken! Wake up!_

_A man.__ His cold smell._

_Laughter! A Whimper! A crash._

_ANNE!_

_A man, I could smell him. He smelled warm. I opened my eyes and breathed again. It was Gabriel and his one eye. My eyes were stinging with the memory of that day. I had forgotten it. I had made myself forget. Aria was there in front of me at the end of the bed. Her arms were folded. Gabriel pushed me up to a sitting position, water at my lips. I drank. It wasn't water, something else was in it. It all blurred and I swear I could still feel the tearing sensation of that man. I never remembered his face. I probably killed him somewhere along the way and never knew it. Gabriel, his warm smell keeping it at bay, but not inviting me any closer. Aria, her arms folded before me. The crash. My hands fell away from the cool drink. My mind fell away from the warm air and single eye of Gabriel. I held onto Aria, assuming the same position in my memory_.

The crash came from a tree branch that had met with the skull of the man who was now on his feet and back in his clothes. His blood splattered on my face, but he was able to run off with the others that had been with him. I turned onto my bruised stomach and lost all of what was left within it. There were three girls standing over me now. They seemed to me like three Greek Muses, one with sunlight hair, the next with darkened tresses like my own, the third with blood soaked hair. They covered me as best they could and I was lifted, the pain was distinct with ever movement of my flesh. I caught only a fragment of what they said. The lighter and darker deferring to the girl of blood red hair.

"Not the infirmary?"

"No . . . in her room"

"She needs . . .nurse . . . for now"

"No Doctors" that was repeated several times before I lost all consciousness.

I opened my eyes hours later, and standing at the foot of my bed, in her Lefrey's uniform linen, with her arms crossed, was the red haired muse, my little sister Aria.


	7. The Foundering

All Standard Disclaimers apply

**_Warning: This chapter contains some mild sexual content_**

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Chapter 6

_ The Foundering_

Despite my first, and I may say, still my greatest loss, time was yet unimportant to me. One might say it had become even less than it was prior, almost a point of avoidance. There was nothing in me after the violation that desired an understanding of time. I despised the passage of time, the whiles, the stretches, the spells. All served as a disgusting _aide memoire_ of the horrible event that had at first rendered me as a defeated combatant, then as a shattered female. Even now in memory, the shards of events left within are brief and flashing, much as you must have found when reading it. In retrospect, the aftermath was far more shattering than the event itself. For in the light of day, awake and aware of what had happened, I came face to face with the monster, as if  everything was taking place again, with every second that ticked by.

 I awoke fog bound and still critically ill. Comprehension as to my situation, the _what_ and _how_ of it all was not long in coming. Regardless of my half conscious state, my femininity recalled everything and whispered to my consciousness the facts of the event. I had been set up, trapped, and raped.

"She doesn't look very well" The blonde muse remarked, dabbing a cool cloth along my sweating face. In my hapless slumber I had forgotten about the three girls who had appeared like wood nymphs from some Greek myth.

"Of course she doesn't. You wouldn't either" the darker one said. With her voice I recalled the cracking of the man's skull as something was crashed over it.

"I think it was rat poison"

"Laudanum"

"Arsenic?" They had a color spectrum in their hair. The first had been golden blonde. The next was dark, darker than even I.

"There is Arsenic _in rat poison, you fool"_

The third had the crimsoned tresses of my mother. Aria.

"It doesn't matter" my sister began, her arms folded before my bed just as she appeared a few minutes ago out of these memories. She wore all the niceties and brilliances of a Lefrey's student. I felt my stomach roil again at the thought that my sister should be placed into this whore's training camp.

"I really think we should summon a doctor of some sort, Aria. I can send for my family physician. He will be discreet if you wish secrecy" the blonde one's hand fell from my cloth, leaving it propped upon my forehead. Aria did not look at her, but remained fixed on me. I noted the same hard look on her face that I had been seeing for months in the mirrors I gazed into. My sister shook her head, refusing again.

"If she is strong enough, she will resist the poison."

_A hard thing to hear from your own sister. But then, when had we ever had the chance to be true sisters?_

I could see from the way she gazed at me that she was evaluating my strength, wondering if I was everything I was cracked up to be. Would I physically resist whatever poison was now in my blood? I had obviously failed the first test by allowing myself to be poisoned in the first place. 

Her stiff imperiousness as she stood at the foot of the bed troubled me greatly. A slight notion of pecking order asserted itself and underneath my nausea I was angry that my _little sister should assume any kind of condescension. The rest of me was rather disappointed that she had been so clearly molded to my family's ideal of a hard, judging young woman. Or perhaps that was really jealousy. Aria seemed in that instant to be a vision of what my father had in mind for me. For a moment my blood ran cold from either the poison or the image my younger sister presented. If I died here in this bed from unknown poisons, Aria would fit my purpose beyond perfection. I could have killed her for that; for being so weak as to not resist the gauntlet of my father and his entourage, for fitting so snuggly into the shoes that had been crafted for me long before she was ever born, for ceasing to be the baby in my hands as my mother had left her, for looking like my mother more than I, yet being nothing like her. All these things asserted themselves in a matter of seconds before I was once again overtaken by the poison in my body._

I understood the need for no doctor; we did not use doctors in the Isle. Believing more in the natural evolution of people and in strengthening bloodlines, the Isle people took to heart the idea of "the strong will survive". If a child or adult fell to illness or accident, the verdict was that they had died as a result of their own weak bodies and feckless minds, and not because of medical absence. I had always held with this strategy for living and found it prudent. However, feeling my insides turn to jelly and churn like a stormed sea against the walls of my being made me regret that conclusion.

So, I was left to live or die by nothing more than the natural endurance of my body. It would be an outright lie to say I was scared. I was terrified and feeling hateful towards my sister for condemning me to this course. How stupid I was then. Never before had I feared dying. I had always known for a fact that I would not fear death, because I would be ready for it. I know now, save for one man; no one is ever ready to die.

But, clearly, I survived. My body lingered in that haze of sickness for what seemed like a lifetime. I am told it was a little over a day and a half. In possession of strong white blood cells, I was sitting up in bed by sunset of the next day, making myself silent promises to become intimate with the knowledge of medicine one day. Aria was not there when I re-acquired myself, but she was there before long. The night brought her in, turning on every lamp in the room, for she remembered my fondness of electric light, like owning the sun in spite of an inconsistent moon. 

            My previous assessment of her did not waver under the fresh light and rebooted wits. She held herself proudly and competently and it was already driving me mad. When she sat down on the bed next to me, I expected something of a debriefing, cold and robotic. Her eyes did look a tad troubled, a skill of concealment she hadn't quite mastered. They were blue in this light, instead of the normal steady gray … 

_ … Now remembering it, I like that blue shine … that looks like the sky near the sea on the shores of West beach, Essex county in that beloved country so close to my heart now, if not then, that blue that speaks of the greatest of possibilities and endless depths. It is a color that silently offers its hand to you with a promising smile; if only you would take it … It is the same color the eyes of Zechs carry when he is meditative. But though it comforts me, I cannot speak of Zechs now. I will come to him later, at his place . . ._

Aria was not yet pretty, still too young for any kind of attractiveness beyond that of a child. But there was nothing of a child in her now, and I hated that the most of everything, though I couldn't and still cannot say why. Becoming agitated with her gaze, I widened my eyes at her and jutted my head forward in a silent _WHAT, impatiently waiting for her to say something. Her brows arched roughly._

"What do you want to do about it?" She asked as if it were nothing.

"About what?"

"Vespertine and the rest" Aria knew and I think I must have too, because I felt no shock. I had smelled her there. I remembered the musk of must that always signaled the serpent's passing. It made all the sense in the world, "_we have ways of making you leave" she had said._

The memories of that brutal invasion and theft of my innocence sparked upon me then. I felt for an instant like a propane tank that had been flicked by a hot cinder, ready to burst into flame at the thought of hands and mouth and sweat that had been put upon me against my will. The spark entered my brain and nestled itself deep. I looked at Aria.

But even as I meant to say something of revenge, a deep cut was made inside me and I lost my breath. I was stricken again with the memory of what had happened and I crumpled. When my breath came back to me, it was ragged and heaving. I saw in an instant then, how much I had been torn asunder and how I would never rise from it. I would never be able to push beyond that afternoon. No revenge would ever assuage this terrible rip in my spirit, and it was utterly, entirely, my fault. I had allowed it to happen. I now had no right to any revenge, for in allowing it to happen, I had effectively raped myself.

            There were no tears. I must say, there have never been any tears. But I crumbled and fell all the same, sobbing a breathy and dry sob upon the satin sheets. It must have been shock that delayed this reaction. I was no rock. I could defend myself no better against the psychological onslaught of such violation than can most victims of sexual assault. Aria was no longer a point in my attention. Instead she lingered in the background, amidst the terrible hot-cold and smell of the man who had broken me that now surrounded every portion of my consciousness.

It had been my doing, my fault.

"Leave me" I said through one tearless sob. Aria bent forward, surprised by my behavior, as if she were inspecting the strange actions of an animal.

"Get out!" I shouted, throwing myself back up and taking hold of her arm enough to toss her from my side. I stared at my younger sister with a feral scowl, warning her not to attempt anything else with me. Aria watched me for half a moment, collected herself, and departed without haste or further loitering.

After that, I sank, willfully. The rape replaying in my mind and yet never making sense enough for me to accept it, the blame of it dragged me down into an undertow of complete misery. I did not admit Aria again. The Pirates were forbidden from my door and Mrs. Duhamel was likewise shut out. I allowed a tray of food to be placed outside my door with an accompanying knock. No doubt the administration would tell my father of my inactivity and refusal to be roused. But that was good in my opinion. I soon ceased laying all the blame on my own shoulders; much of it was deferred in a short time. By a week's time, I believe, I had decided that it was my father, who by sending me here, had raped me. 

When I reached that conclusion, that spark roused itself in my brain again. I was dangerously angry now for perhaps the first time in my life. The night it began was a memorable one for me, figuring very prominently in my mind all the days of my life following it.

The balcony. I had not set foot on it in some time, having forsaken any comfort in the fresh, ever-moving air of the outdoors and nature. But this night, as a black haze of rage encircled the visage of my father as I pictured him within, I ventured there. Pacing back and forth and breathing rather heavily, I stalked my balcony terrace, stopping only to hurl a potted plant from the height. I can't tell you what kind of a night it was, what I was wearing, the temperature, or any other bland description. All I saw that night was red. The image if Merrick Delizabane covered in his own blood for what he had done to me.

I knew that it had not been his doing. Vespertine had contrived the maneuver and executed it to victory. The serpentine smell of her still wafted through the memory of it. She had been there, and Aria herself had confirmed. It was all corroborated. And yet, it was my father who I blamed, outside myself. It was my father who made this happen. I imagined, almost lustfully, seeing him begging for clemency at my feet. If only I could secure that look of defeat from him in life as I could in my fevered mind. I would have given all the peace of a lifetime to have him know that I existed and he would pay the toll for abusing me as he had. Like a sealed pack with a demon I envisioned it; anything to give me the power to overcome my father who had done this to me. 

Helplessly, I sought a momentary respite from anger with that Doubt I had created in the dream they had all fostered in me, of that beautiful country we would resurrect and achieve everything we sought for in life. My dream of that nation that I had personally shattered as a mark of my own independence now loomed before me, but far off and distant. The doubt I had manifested abandoned me and I reached out for it, calling.

"Help me, America! I'm lost. Take me back!" 

But it faded and spirited itself away into the mists of an unrealized dream, to be replaced by the anger again. Seizing upon a flower vase near on the terrace table, I flung it with a strangled cry off the balcony, where it smashed like my doubt on the bricks below. I was oblivious to the startled shout below. I crouched down into my grief, whispering for my lost dream, for my lost America.

"That's fucking it!" the roughed and highly agitated voice came from below. I heard a few grunts and slaps against stone. Perhaps, had I not been so involved in my own emotional blitz, I might have realized that someone was climbing up the curving wall to my balcony.

Of course, I didn't realize that at all until he was climbing over the railing. The young man's hands were on the railing and he was pulling himself over by the time I regained myself. He wasn't having an easy time of it either. The wall was awkward and the railing a few feet away. I imagine he must have been driven by a pronounced anger to have even attempted this feat, never mind accomplishing it. My fist thought however, was not to allow myself to be seen in this state. Without thinking, I picked up the nearest small object, a small stone that lay as an irrigation tool in one of the larger potted plants, turned sharply and threw it hard at the balcony flood light, the only outside illumination. The stone hit its mark and shattered the light in a shower of glass and dying electricity just as the young man pulled himself over the rail and onto the stone safety of the balcony floor.

He was heaving mad breathes. "Are you trying to kill me?" he rasped out between intakes.

I hadn't a clue what he was talking about; for I was at that moment making sure he couldn't really make me out in the now poor light. I was satisfied that he couldn't when I marked that I could barely see him either.

"Well? This is the second time you have launched something at me from your little haven up here." He was speaking International, but I definitely caught the French accent this time. Having recovered a little from his excursion, the man … no … boy, stood tall and proud, arms folded superiorly. I caught the gleam of army medallions on his jacket from the limited light coming through the windows of my room. His features were as obscured as they were on our first meeting, but I could make out just enough to know that he was squinting, trying to see me better. I kept myself in a shadow, avoiding the light.

"Are you a mute now?" he demanded, but quietly, likely he didn't want to alert anyone else to his invasion. But he was also quick enough to see that I wasn't going to answer. So he took a step forward. I in turn, took one back.

"Get out" I swore out at him as he tried to approach.

"The way I came?" he indicated over the railing. "I don't think so. Coming up was enough of a trial." The boy seemed far calmer now, but not at all inclined to leave. I took the family initiative.

"I can send you back that way if you force me to." It was the wrong thing to say, for having threatened, I sparked his further interest, having spoken so much, my accent was now apparent and indicated more than I wished. He sharply noted it and began pursuing

"You speak uncommonly."

I wisely did not answer. So he answered my silence by coming forward again. "Come into the light" he said quietly, all trace of anger gone from his voice. But what had replaced it seemed far more dangerous. I did not move to obey. He was definitely turning things over in his head. After half a moment of tense silence, he spoke again, seeing that I would not.

"This is very interesting. I had not suspected at all that you would be here." He spoke now as if he knew me. The very real fear that he might suddenly caught in my throat. I didn't want anyone knowing me. I wanted to sink under the waters and be forgotten so that no one would know it when I rose again to strike at them.

"Have you ever been to the Irish coast, on the western side? It is remarkable there. My family was permitted to vacation there recently. Some of your family was there as well. Our fathers apparently had much to discuss. I did see your younger siblings there, the boy and girl. I'm sorry, I don't recall their names. But your absence was more obvious and keenly felt. I had greatly hoped you would be there."

Words cannot express how troubled I was in those moments.

"Who are you?" I tried to keep my tone bland and my accent hidden. 

"The future Duke of Aquitaine"

"You and the rest of the world." I scoffed. Everyone and their father seemed to have some kind of title to them. I was not impressed in the slightest. He seemed to understand that perfectly. 

"Well, it is not as impressive as already being the Countess of Mortain-" Shit. I had still hoped he was mistaking me for someone else. "-but it will present some advantages later on."

"Why would my father and meet with your father. He is disgusted by  . . ." I held off, searching for the proper words.

"Alliance scum, perhaps? Eh … scum can be useful at times. Your father is an important man, and a member of the Alliance himself, of course."

I wanted to be sick. But my question was still unanswered

A small flickering came from inside his jacket and with it a tiny beeping. He removed a small device and opened it before me. It had a vid screen in it, for the light of it suddenly illuminated his face as he spoke into it.

"What?"

The device made some answer I could not hear.

"Up on the second floor. The balcony over the dormitories."

Again, a listening silence from him and the device crackled some response.

"I've already figured that out." He answered smartly to whatever the person on the other end had to say. It must have been another raid night for these randy noblemen's sons. I was still sick from hearing about my father.

The boy/man listened for a long time to what the device spoke to him, eventually, he turned his eyes back to my shadowed figure and what I could now see of his eyes was a cloudy tightness.

"When?"

Mumbling.

"How many of them and their names?"

More of the same.

"I wondered how he had been injured. The bastard hates me as much as she does. It is no real surprise they would collaborate this way. But seeing as how I didn't know she was here, there was nothing to be done for it."

The conversation went on without anything from the boy but yes and no answers. I longed to slip into the doors of my room and lock him away from me. But I would cross into the light, and it felt vital to not let him see me, even if he knew who I was now.

"I will have it taken care of." Then he shut the machine off and his face was obscured again. I had actually forgotten to mark his features. Though it really didn't matter, I had a strong feeling I would meet this young man again, whether I wished to or no.

He wasn't looking at me when he spoke, taking a moment prior to sort something out in his head. A heavy sigh sifted from him. "When the engagement is finalized, I will see to it that the ones who assaulted you are properly dealt with."

For so many reasons, it was the wrong thing to say to me. I choked for an instant as if ready to be sick again. A million thoughts swarmed my consciousness. Assault, , Father, Vesper, Aria, America, The Isle, Alliance, Engagement, all of it was far too much for the moment to contain. About me, the world seemed to stop and all that moved was a great spike of fire. It rushed from the air above our heads that still held his words fresh and drove itself right into my gut where it festered and leeched into my blood. I suddenly wished I had my old sword with me so I could have divested this boy of his head. With rage building in me from all he had said, from his calmness, from him knowing words, from his declaration that he would deal with the ones who had assaulted me, I stepped into the light towards him. It was a frightening kind of rage, because I was not out of control. I felt soft, floating, and yet consumed. I felt deadly. I felt epiphany, solution. In short, I went mad.

"You should go" I said, seeing almost passed him, knowing that now I was in the light and he was looking me over. I was too incensed to really look at him. The rest of what he had spoken of slipped out of my thoughts. All there was left was the insinuation that he would deal with it for me. It was mine to deal with. I knew what I was going to do. I had to find Aria first.

"You don't want to be here now. You should take your friends and go" As I spoke, it was there again, the rape taking place inside. The young man took hold of my arm for a moment, hard.

"What are you going to do?" his accent was very smooth.

"You will hear of it." I was looking out into the darkness. He must have heard the epiphany in my voice because he let go and went to railing. It would be easier going down. He lifted one leg over the edge and then looked back. "We will be meeting again, now that I know where to find you." I didn't bother to interpret, that was for later. 

"I will not be here." He nodded after a time and disappeared over the side. When he was gone I extended my words to anything that was listening, which was nothing but the wind. "Nothing will be here."

Back in my room, I dressed into my favorite gown. It was black and plain and long, meant for my height. In my closet hung the Isle jacket I had arrived in. Letting my hair down and over my shoulders, I slid the jacket on and then went to my chair. I sat there for a long while, lingering in a dark and cold place. The epiphany reared again like a great stallion and I seized its mane so that I might be carried with it. _You could be done with all of it, if you only grasp your duty._

 I rose then and went to find my book, _The Account, by the fireplace, slipping it into my jacket. Also at the fire place, I grabbed a lighter and then went to Mrs. Duhamel's study where she kept an old kerosene lamp. Having stolen that, I went along, wrapped in the regalia of my country, to the dormitories. Outside the door, I lit the lamp and entered._

There is no point in noting the room, save for that it was large and lined with windows framed by great draperies, through which the many visiting boys came and went during the night. Instantly I heard the grunts and moans of students engaged with their visitors. Some shadows flickered, indicating the shapes and declines within the massive room. All else was darkened by night. I took it all in for a moment, like sucking in air you know you will not breathe again. Then I shouted.

"ARIA!"

The whole place was stopped, startled from sleep or from sex, hundreds of them, to see me standing at the entrance way. I shouted for my sister again, seeing a look a anxiety on some of the nearest girls. They were afraid of me. They had always been afraid of me. Tonight I was going to give them all reason to be afraid of me and of my country. I was taking my revenge on Madame Lefrey and all her would-be Alliance sluts. Tonight I was doing my family duty.

Aria wasted no time in running up from one of the many aisles of cots and beds, some nicer than others. She reached me, and I smiled inside. She too wore her black Isle jacket studded with gold, over her night gown. As if she knew my intent, she led me directly to where I wished. Within thirty paces I was at the foot of Vespertine's bed, which, larger than others, held one man and another girl, all of them nude and glistening. Vesper was not upset in the least, but perhaps a little nervous. She had wanted me gone, as the rest of them did, for a reason.

"Bags packed yet, Miss Analicia? Or have you taken a liking to our fine games?" She whispered. The man in her bed, and he was a man quite a few years older than any of us, seemed untroubled by me as he sucked on Vesper's fingers.

"I will allow you one moment for anything you want to say. That is all" I said clearly, not needing to whisper. The other girl in the bed looked like she wanted out. Beside me, Aria stood as taunt and emotionless image of me, but I could sense anticipation in her. Vesper seemed bored; she huffed back against her pillows, the sheets slipping down to expose her bare chest, which her shameless lover pursued. 

"I told you to leave. But that was only part of it. I don't like your kind," she laughed, "none of us do and we do want you gone. However, that is only a small part of it. But if you really want to know why you got fucked the way you did, ask Jareth Khushrenada what he thinks about spoiled goods, and then send him my best wishes." Her fingers nestled in the hair of the man now voraciously laving her breasts. "Who is the Alliance whore now?"

For untold reasons, I smiled and nodded. In my ears, I heard Hirumatsu giving me council on advantage.

"Coming aboard?" the man bent his head to wink at me. I was standing directly before their wooden bed, lamp in hand.

"No, getting off." I answered. _Lamp in hand.__ Do your duty and be done with it._

"You could be … in no time at all." He reached for my hand and Vesper the Serpent smiled for the last time. You _could be done with it in no time. I took a step back and sent the kerosene lamp slamming into the headboard of their bed where it exploded on impact, breaking and raining fire and glass on the inhabitants. Screams erupted from the entire dorm, but I ignored all save for those of Vespertine, who was now half covered in burning kerosene, her bed burning around her. The fire spread to the great old draperies via the many bed spreads that also caught on fire. A thick black smoke gusted out of the curtains and into the room, soon they would fall and the fire would spread. Students were running, half dressed, some naked, searching for an escape._

 I watched her burn alive serenely, the smoke, already thick, drifting by and curling in my hair and clothes. Somehow, it did not effect me, the air I breathed was fresh as the duty newly performed.  The man, who himself was on fire and was rolling around on the floor, rose and rushed at me insanely. But Aria, who seemed to be relishing this as much I, was ready and sprung on him. She caught him around the neck, risking her own flesh to the fire on his body. But the struggled was swiftly concluded. When he finally fell, I saw Aria drawing a knife she had plunged into his throat. She must have kept it in her jacket the whole time. He slumped down twitching and gagging, the life in his throat pouring out. I held out my hand for it and Aria gave it over without hesitation. She was once again as calm and menacing as I then seemed to her.

"See that your comrades escape" I ordered her, marking how girls were still fleeing the burning room while others were trapped by the fire. "Then see to it that the fire spreads as far as it might" Aria went again without hesitation.

Before me, Vespertine Agrevienne  writhed. The other girl in the bed had long since flung herself through the window to escape the fire burning her body. Many others were escaping through the route she had created. Myself, I did not move. The fire seemed to avoid me, as if it recognized me as its liberator and honored me with a short amnesty. I thought nothing of it.  My body and mind felt completely detached as Vesper thrashed about, dying in front of me. My only concern was seeing that she did indeed die. Her hair was now gone and her limbs and face had become blackened and ruddy with blisters. She would likely die soon if left in the flame. But I had to be sure. I could hear Aria yelling for me to get out, my escape was rapidly diminishing. Holding onto the knife, I pulled Vespertine out of the fire that was now chewing along the bottom half of her. For an instant, she stopped thrashing to look at me with wild, animal-like eyes. That instant was the most surreal of my life. I was fourteen years old.

"You were right, we are mad." I made sure my accent was well pronounced. Then I slit her throat and dumped her back into the fire.

Aria was hailing me again, her two friends in trembling tow. As I hastened my way toward them, all remaining students ran away from me as if I were more dangerous than the fire. I recognized the other two girls with Aria as the ones who had retrieved me from the woods. We exited the burning hall through a pane Aria had broken in the great window and soon we were on the lawn. The two other girls were white as sheets as Aria and I calmly walked across the grass towards whatever was before us. I wasn't looking forward and I wasn't looking back, neither was my sister. We were walking blind and contented.

We saw cars parked just beyond a wooded patch by the road, where the young male visitors were now running. We made our way there. Several young men ran by us, asking if we were alright, as I was particularly blackened by smoke. But they didn't linger long when they saw it was us. None of them made to attack as I figured the men would. They all seemed phased when they saw me, as if they were looking at a ghost, or a demon. 

When halfway there, I felt suddenly weary, and Aria caught my arm. The smoke I had inhaled now asserted itself and I crouched down to throw up black spittle and cough wildly. I was covered in black soot, but had noticed none of it. My senses were returning and I knew then that I had gone mad. I had slit Vespertine Agrevienne's throat and killed… probably many girls tonight. Everything was again in a  blackening whirl and I thought the smoke was descending upon me again. I was lifted just before I reached an unconscious state. Lying across someone's shoulder, my book slipped from the jacket. I saw Aria retrieve it quickly. Behind her, Lefrey's School for Young Women of Privilege burned into the darkness.


	8. Departures

Chapter 7

**Departures**

_You will note and with humor, if you are anything like me, that I tend to lose myself quite often. The states and circumstances vary of course, but it has never been unusual for me to wake up in a place I have no recollection of traveling to. Sometimes, this makes a good deal of sense, as I will recall prior instances in which I was, shall we say, under pressure. Other times, as you will soon read, there is really no accounting for it. So, in short, if things become at all muddled and inconsistent, it is because that is as it appears in my head. I will try with you, to clarify some portions that will come off as awkward and sometimes ludicrous and make them coherent to the plot of my life._

_If you have any suggestions on meanings and interpretations, I am always pleased to hear the opinions of others (as long as you don't think I am __Rocky__Mountain__ High on drugs) Send them in care of the Isle. I think that my residence here will be of some duration._

_Now, where were we?_

When I managed to regain consciousness, and rather annoyed with myself for having lost it at all, I found myself well cared for. The bed was enormous and the room which dawned slowly upon me as I stirred awake was of equal stature. Regardless the size of the room and its luxury, where in the hell I was, was remained a mystery until my sister came along. Aria seemed unaltered by our recent experience. Her grace and determined expression was ever green. 

"We are in Calais. There will be a ship to take us over the Channel tonight." She sat down on the side of the bed as I made to peel myself from it. The previous night had come back to me in full, recalling to me all that had been said, and done. Aria was likely thinking of it too, and in the light of a bright afternoon coming in the window, we remembered together.

She fetched me a silk robe from the nearby boudoir and helped it on me. My chest felt heavy from the smoke the night before, but after having survived poison, it was no hardship. I walked to a large window overlooking a section of the French Port. We must have been in one of the finer hotels and I wondered how Aria had arranged it. Behind my eyes, Vespertine flitted in her dying moments. Aria was next to me, watching me in something akin to reverence. I fixed her with a roguish smile and flung open the window so that the sea air might greet us proper.

"I have been without the sea for too long" I murmured, my heart gladdened by the sounds of nearby seagulls. Aria leaned out, the sun catching her red hair and exposing the gold under-shine, even as it shown red in my own. She looked down with a more relaxed face and spoke slowly.

"We are going home"

"Well past time"

"I think our father will be pleased"

I had not thought about my father, and suddenly the mood was again black as the smoke in my lungs. I had thought nothing of how he would react to my actions. In truth, though I remembered my actions, I had not thought on them much.

"We will need to think things through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I have burned down the school I was sent to. I have killed an Alliance daughter. Surely there will be hard consequences for that." I turned away from the sun, not wishing to grow too accustomed to its glory. Aria shifted and half snorted in amusement.

"That doesn't matter. You didn't kill anyone Father will care about. It's probably about time you got used to it."

"To what?"

"Killing. We are soldier bound, aren't we? Killing is part of the game. Hadn't you done it before?"

I shook my head slowly.

"Really? I thought you had. Incredible, you seemed like a natural last night." My sister baffled me.

"Natural? How may anyone be 'natural' at killing?" 

Aria shrugged. "Necessity drives us, I suppose. But really, I had thought you had done it before."

"Have you?"

"Not yet, but then, I am not Eldest Child."

"Indeed not" We sat in silence for a long time, mulling over things in out respective thoughts.

"What do you suppose we will be sent to do next?" Aria ventured.

"It is anyone's guess. But I did learn some disconcerting things last night." Aria prompted me with her immediate interest.

"Have you been the Western Coast of Ireland recently, with the family?"

"No" she answered. "I was at Lefrey's for a number of months."

"How is it that they did not know you?"

"I entered under our mother's maiden name. This was easy since I arrived alone and had no one with me to contradict. It was Bram's suggestion. So, being a stranger and keeping my mouth shut, I learned lots of things about the school."

She then disclosed to me the facts of the school's educational course, how the female students were instructed in practical ways during the day, and at night, encouraged to explore sexual behavior. Some of the men who visited were allowed to enter through the front door. The boys always snuck in, not knowing that the faculty was very lenient on male visitation during the nights. Apparently, when a high ranking officer of the Alliance visited, he would have special treatment from the dormitories and often made a special donation to the school."

"But why did the girl's comply? I cannot think that twelve year old girls are as sexually aware as that."

Aria shifted again, this time uncomfortably.

"I suppose you were free from the aphrodisiacs that were placed in the food. Heh, wish I had been."

I stared at her. She was just twelve years old now and I wanted her desperately to deny the notion brewing in my mind from her words. Aria saw my look and was unashamed.

"Don't look at me that way. If you want to know, then yes. I was in on the course, and from it, I have an intimate understanding of Colonel Juaquinalt of the 28th infantry regiment in Kenya. I am not ashamed of it. We all must become women sometime."

Indeed. But I didn't want to hear another word about it. I turned away from her and was silent.

"Why did you ask about Ireland?" Good. That was the subject I had wanted to discuss and it was far away from the inner workings of the now 'defunct' Lefrey's school.

"There was a young man who 'visited' me last night. He knew who I was without having to be told. He seemed to know much actually, said he had recently vacationed in Ireland with our family. He mentioned Mathius and Shireen, not by name though. Also, he said that my absence was 'keenly felt'"

"I know of no visits recently. The movements of the family have been closed off to me since I left. We should ask Bram when we return. Did he say anything else?"

I thought for a moment on his parting words, but decided not to mention it. Aria raised a brow coyly.

"What did he look like?"

"I don't know, I didn't mark him at all. He was tall I think."

"You have no eye for men at all"

"I am young yet"

 Beside me, Aria began laughing. 

"Did you see that man's face when you threw the lamp at the bed? It was hilarious, with him wriggling about like a fish on a hook, and then trying to Rugby tackle us all. Too funny." Her face was turning red. I couldn't conceal a morbid grin. "Yea, good times, good times.

Inside, I was decayed.

*********************

We crossed the Channel on schedule and made a swift passage from the Port of Calais to white cliffs. I became more anxious as we neared the manor house, not wishing to see my father's face. The weather on the cliffs was tempestuous, with hard rain and shuddering winds to match my spirit. The house looked warm in the distance as we were driven towards it, with soft gold emanating from the fine windows. The complex beyond where I had spent my youth showed itself a great dark mass lurking behind the house. 

            We were shuffled into the house with all haste to keep dry. Inside the door, a servant I had no familiarity with escorted my sister and I into a den were we warmed ourselves against the bleakness of the night. Aria watched me with her sisterly concern that I was beginning to appreciate more and more. She knew my fear for I appeared white faced and shuddering as the minutes ticked by, minutes that would inevitably bring Merrick to us.

When the door to the den was suddenly thrust open, my blood fell from my heart and I was frozen with fear. I waited to see him cross the threshold, wondering if I would be able to stop myself from killing him for what he had done, or if he would have me killed for what I had done. Aria's reassurances in Calais meant nothing now. My father must be a brutal man and I was sure that I had reason to be frightened.

But it was Bram who appeared before us, followed by uniformed females that were to take us to our rooms. Blood re-entered my heart and I felt saved. Bram wouldn't hurt me. It was one of the few sureties of my life. He moved with his usual fluid grace that I always tried to emulate. The man always knew what he was doing in every instance and it showed in his posture. Elegantly, yet with strength, he crossed the room and stood in front of us as we rose to his presence.

"Welcome home, girls" he nodded politely, not quite smiling, but looking heartened. His premature gray hair glistened in the light of the lamps behind him. Neither of us spoke, for though Bram was with us, he still carried my father's word, which was only slightly better than having the man there himself. I waited for him to get right to heart of the matter, a lump rising in my throat.

"Your father knows the details of what happened at Madame Lefrey's."

That was it, I was dead. I saw Aria looking down from the corner of my eye. Bram's expressionless tone was obviously enough to disintegrate her belief in our father's clemency. I waited for Bram to continue but he kept looking at me, not indicating a need for a response, but I could see he was still waiting for something. Completely without thought, I assumed a proud stance that would mirror something of my father, something that would indicate that I had no qualms about my action. 

Apparently it was an appealing movement, for Bram smiled. "Much like your father, Leecy. I can see how you have grown like him in these months."

Those words were far worse than anything else I had previously imagined.

"Well, now you are home. Your father could not be here to greet you, he is in London town for the week and will then be leaving for Essex Harbor city of Boston afterwards-"

"Are we to go with him?" I asked suddenly, enflamed with the idea of seeing an American city such as the Boston Harbor city. I could feel Aria beside me brighten with a similar excitement. Bram did not appreciate the interruption.

"You are not." Hopes dashed too quickly to feel any disappointment. "Your father is sending you to the western coast of Ireland. He believes you and your sister have earned something of a rest. But your training will continue. There will be Lady's tutors there and Miss Analicia must be trained in fire arms."

Western Ireland… "How long are we to be there?"

"I would imagine a few years at least." He answered me clearly. My heart leapt; a few years with my sister, away from my father, and in my own land.

"I will be there every so often to evaluate your instruction and progress." And Bram would be there too. I could not hide the smile the formed. Ireland was said to be beautiful and I had always wanted desperately to see my country. 

Then I recalled the location in a different context; Western Ireland, where the boy had vacationed with my family. I remembered the boy, his words, and those of Vespertine, who had provided me with a name.

"Bram, who is Jareth Khushrenada?" He just looked at me for a time, not inclined to answer immediately, or perhaps at all.

"Leecy, There is someone here to see you. His name is Felius Alendro and he is a special physician from Greece. He will be seeing you in the morning after you have rested. I know it is irregular, but you require examination after the incident at the school. We need to make sure there are no long term effects."

I nodded my understanding, but wondered which incident he referred to, but didn't need to think much to make a good guess. Even as I acquiesced to his instructions, I was poised to ask Bram of Jareth Khushrenada. My instinct told me he was the young man I had met at Lefrey's and I wanted to know what he had to do with us. But Bram ignored my look of poised query and, with a light tap on my shoulder and then Aria's, he left us alone in the room. 

I turned to Aria, who was still looking at the door. She fastened her steely eyes on me in turn and smirked lightly. Western Ireland! Not as great as visiting the one of the cities of the Grand Design, but I would see those places one day. Since the happenings of Lefrey's, I found a little more faith in the great Nation. Much like a person who finds religion in the midst of crisis, America was again my deity. 

*********

Inside the grand office of the Eldest child, leagues of time after the memory of Analicia was in the midst of reliving, the interim child, Lady Aria Delizabane, shuffled through reports that came from throughout her newly created havoc. It had been a dim day with overcast skies and sea drizzle, yet full of excitement. In the Spanish ESUN providence, the Portuguese had set up military bases from which they attacked the south western portion of France. Having lost much of its organization through the Paris rebellion, which had begun in the countryside, the French were entering a desperation period. This would be most valuable to the Isle and to Aria herself. People in desperation tended to act with the most ferocity and all was assured to escalate beyond whatever control the Preventers might hope to retain. Also, Aria, like many of her countrymen, had a distinct dislike for France. The felling of their people would always bring her personal and patriotic satisfaction.

Zechs was heavy in activity. After the Isle's successful mission to procure Analicia from Preventer hold, Zechs had managed to crack the cloaking technology of the Calypso suits. It was a small oversight that could be rectified in the event of another encounter. However, Zechs had managed to break the line of Calypso's suits blocking him that day at the Preventer Headquaters far faster than was initially anticipated. Gabriel, who had stayed behind in his newly constructed black Eypon, had been there when Zechs landed the Tallgeese at the Khushrenada estate. It was a curious affair, undoubtedly involving variables that Aria had not accounted for. That he knew where to go was not so surprising, they had been seen heading in the north easterly direction of the Estate, but it was more what Gabriel had mentioned in passing when it was all over that offered some trouble. He had said that _Zechs_ now knew everything_. Aria wondered at this, and at Gabriel as well, who had developed a prophetic streak as of late._

After reaching the Estate, followed by a retinue of what had been identified as Scorpio mobile suits, a design not unfamiliar but certainly unaccounted for, Zechs made no move to attack the Epyon, the only remaining Isle suit at the scene. Aria thought perhaps that Zechs did not intend to face the Gundam with his inferior suit. But Gabriel's foresight on the matter swayed her more than any of Zechs' sensibilities.

Gabriel had illuminated much as of late. Besides the mere advantage of having Treize Khushrenda's file data on the Eypon available, they had also found in him a startling ability. Many times since the first occasion, he had fallen with attacks of the brain and body. They were extremely violent and often incapacitated him for hours. But when he awoke, he spoke disturbing truths, about what was, what had been and what was coming. The visions, at first unsettling and usually unclear when they pertained to the future, had become an undetected weapon. Last week, Gabriel had been seized and yelled in madness about Israel, saying that the struggle would be quelled by wind. And indeed, Preventer Wind had managed to ease the hostilities that raged there following an Isle attack. A small failure of the Isle that Aria blamed on reasonable modern middle-eastern character, they were always quite reluctant to fight after what they had done to North America centuries before. Zechs had done what Aria had fervently believed he would fail miserably at. He had no skill as a diplomat, ever, even when he attempted it in AC 195. She could not account for it, except for again what Gabriel had said, that Zechs _now knew everything_. It had occurred to all of them earlier today when Zechs managed to thwart an attack on the Trans-Asian rail line through the Urals. Zechs had the same prophetic abilities as Gabriel. One weapon negated by another. But who was the stronger Seer of the two, and were there anymore?

The staff was now attributing the ability to some altering of brainwaves found in Gabriel after prolonged exposure to Eypon's Zero System. Some seemed to think that perhaps the Zero system's vast communication abilities had trained some portion of the brain that is regularly not in use. In Bram's words, the Zero System awakens those who listen long enough. He called them Newtype. Now Gabriel and Zechs would be like human Zero Systems, perfect in strategy and in absorbing information to calculate the best chance for victory. However, it made them unpredictably, as Gabriel would seldom speak on what he heard, declaring that doing so would alter the strategy for victory. As long as his victory was hers as well, Aria did not mind.

But that left one possible opening, as the Isle knew there was one "Newtype" who was yet unaccounted for. Though Gabriel had told Lady Aria not to worry about the fugitive Heero Yuy, Aria did anyway. The boy had had more exposure to the Zero System, and there was no telling what the ability had revealed to him by now. And there was still many questions involving how it worked, whether the length of exposure was more important than the length of time between vision and exposure. So much unknown, but she could trust in Gabriel for now. He had yet to let them down.

Save for one thing, he would not keep from Leecy for long. Though she was in almost a vegetative state, he still spent long hours in the room, not looking at her. They had woken her up this morning using drugs. Gabriel had wiped blood from his nose as he spoke quietly that she could go into cardiac arrest if she was not awoken. He didn't seem to want her dead yet he railed strongly against her life when approached about it. It was here that Aria was unsure of his loyalty, though perhaps his loyalty was greater than others around her. He would not let  Kateline to be near her room, and subdued any rebellion in The Huntress by sleeping with her. It was a sharp move on his part, for it both frustrated and satisfied Kateline's erratic behavior. It also distracted her from bothering Relena Darlian and Mariemaia Khushrenada, who had been placed together at another end of the compound. 

Aria sighed, turning in her chair as she turned the events in her head. What was happening to her sister? The proposition Aria had given her should have been a far easier for her to accept than the mind warp she kept losing herself in. Perhaps what the others said was true, that she was showing symptoms of the disease that they all carried. She was losing her mind as they knew she would from the start. 

 The obligation would be short for Leecy. She had only to come out of the depths of her madness for a brief time, and then Aria would shoot her through the head, and give her the peace Leecy had given their own father.

********

The chair was old. It creaked back and forth as he moved slightly, sitting in the darkened room, the Library. He didn't like the light, not anymore. These past two weeks had changed his taste for the sun and its warmth. He would face the day only when he needed to know more. The room smelled of dust that no one would come to clean away. They all knew he was here, and they wouldn't disturb him.

Everyone was in dread of him now. Since the attack at Preventer Headquarters, and the days directly following, he had done things to make them feel that way.  Maybe it was the foreboding presence he exuded these days. Or perhaps it was his occasional rages where he threatened his subordinates with death if they didn't follow his orders in an expedient fashion. There wasn't enough of him these days to explain to them that not following his orders quickly might kill them all. He only had so much of himself in reserve, only so much to give, only so much to hold onto before the next seizure would come on him and he would lose a little more. Yes, they were all in dread of him, but not as in dread as he.

The curtain by the window rustled, indicating a particular breeze. The wind always came in from the south, rarely the north where the window faced. The curtain rustled with uncertainty, a hesitance that bespoke a draft. Someone was approaching, opening the door that led to this upper level hallway. He had spent enough time in this room recently to learn all its many voices and signals.

Within seconds, the boot heels sounded against the floor. The approach was not hesitant or nervous, as everyone was with him now. It was probably Wufei, nothing troubled him, certainly not Zechs and his raging seizures.

The knock on the door was soft, too soft for Wufei's bluntness. No, it must be-

"Commander?" Hildre's light voice rebounded off the walls of the barren room. 

"Commander Zechs, are you in-" she asked again as she opened the door and found him sitting in the creaking chair. What she saw next was enough to make her finally hesitant. With a little disbelief, Hildre's large eyes wandered the room, where books had been torn from their shelves and flung onto the floor.

"Commander?" she finally ventured after she closed the door and allowed the chaotic state of the room to sink in.

Zechs simply shook his head, not wanting to speak of it. It was plain enough that he had dismantled the room. There was no need to discuss it. He didn't want to think about it. The reasons for the outburst of rage that had made him tear the Library apart were already too heavy on his mind to talk about anything else.

Hildre, at first shocked by what she had obviously not thought to find when she first entered the room, now assumed her no nonsense expression. Zechs knew instantly that she would give him no solitude and no quarter.

"What the hell is this?" She tossed up a surveying hand to the mess. Zechs only raised a hand to his temple and then made a fist as if anchoring himself there. Hildre picked up a book and crossly slung it back on the pile.

"You shouldn't even be here, Zechs. There is nothing good for you here, and there is certainly nothing useful in tearing up the place."

"Leave me be, Hildre" he responded quietly.

"Oh! Stop acting like a morose child. You think Lady Anne will enjoy coming home to find that you have laid her library to waste?"

Zechs slapped his fist hard down on the arm of the chair. Hildre jumped a little as Zechs quickly rose to his imposing height, a number of inches above the young woman.

"We both know that she is not coming back" he spat at her. Hildre was undaunted by her frightful commander.

"Did you "see" that?" Her antagonistic attitude was not doing much to calm him.

"I don't need to "SEE" anything to know she isn't coming back."

Blue eyed Hildre sighed, clearly trying to reach past her annoyance and find some sympathy.

"Zechs, the time to despair hasn't come yet. We don't know all ends and only when we know there is no hope is it the time to despair. They won't kill any of them, Relena, Mariemaia, Anne. They are just hostages."

"Then why haven't we received any terms from their captors?"

"Well, we haven't received any body parts either. They are alive, Zechs. They wouldn't dare kill them." He turned his back on her and walked toward the uncertain window.

"You have no idea what they would dare. But, I know at least one of them is alive, Hildre. They won't kill at least one of them."

"Which one?"

"They can't kill her. It would be treason among them if they did." Behind him, Hildre's sharp footsteps brought her directly to Zechs' side where she pulled on his arm.

"What are you talking about? Who?"

Zechs just shook his head.

"Damnit, Zechs! I have had enough of your bloody riddles! Tell it straight for once. Why would it be treason?" Zechs resisted her grip and braced himself against the window frame, pushing the curtains aside roughly. The room was flooded with his dreaded light.

"I am not leaving until you tell me."

_Fine.__ Stay forever. I'll never tell._

"Please, Zechs. We won't get them back if you aren't open about what it is you know."

"Hildre, I can't say what I know." _I won't say. No force on this planet can make me either._

Hildre conceded, for a few moments at least. She sighed very heavily and started picking up the books. He knew she wouldn't let it go. Sure enough-

"I'm not stupid as you would like to believe."

Zechs turned to glance at her. Hildre continued to pick up books and replace them on the shelf, not favoring him with eye contact.

"I am not naïve, childish, or ignorant"

Before long she had filled a single shelf while Zechs, in his eternal turmoil, watched her.

"Nor am I blind!" She held onto one of the books and halted to meet his eyes. Zechs held his peace.

"I have a set of eyes, a good set, and good instincts as well. I have also worked with the Preventers long enough to put a few puzzles together." With one hand and eyes never wavering, she set the volume down on a table and started toward Zechs. Was it hot in here? Zechs was beginning to sweat.

"Now, would you please tell me what Anne has done, and what you are doing to protect her; because, it has been very plain to me _why_ you are protecting her for some time now." _She knows. No, she isn't stupid. Did Anne find me as obvious as Hildre?_

He didn't want to talk about this. Talking would endanger him, and _her_. Everything inside was screaming to keep silent. He turned away. Hildre was on him in a second, pulling at his chest to keep him facing her. Somehow, the pressure Hildre was placing on him was enough to subdue him. He felt weak suddenly, a tremor alighted within. It was coming, again. Zechs braced himself, closing his eyes tightly.

"Has she joined the enemy?"

_She is the enemy_

"What has she done?" a shout this time, desperate. He was sinking to his knees, the heat rising in his head.

_ Anne! What have you done?_

"Zechs!"

_Zechs__!  The blood starting from his nose now, he saw Hildre cup her hand to catch it, understanding that it was happening again._

_God, she is the enemy!_

"Hold on to me, Zechs. Hold on, you'll be alright" Hildre spoke as the seizure began wracking his body with heaves and images.

"Just hold on, Zechs"

_I won't let go. You can't make me let go!_

Oh god, it hurt this time, it burned like never before. He was seeing it, seeing her, with them, one of them.

_You didn't tell me._

**_I didn't remember. I wouldn't remember. I made myself forget_**

****

He was aware of one great jolt throwing him down and Hildre away. His head banged against the hard wood of the windowsill.

**_You'll not get by me, Lightning Count. _**

****

_Gabriel_

****

Hildre was on him again, holding his head against the floor. Perhaps he was bleeding their too now.

**_He is dying, Zechs. I can't keep him alive! ___**

Was he choking now? He couldn't breathe!

**_I'll never return to this land__…_**

Hildre pulled him over. He was swallowing his tongue. She was wiping the blood from his face as he began to breathe again. He felt the sweat running down his forehead and over his back. The images began to fade.

****

**_I was born for dying._**

_He shoots her through the back._

He closed his eyes, sleeping for a few moments. But the images, once seen, would now haunt. Slowly, he found he could not wake up. Everything had blurred to muddiness in his consciousness. It felt as though he were underwater or floating in space. Hildre was beside him still, holding onto him with her own sturdiness, he could sense that much. God, but he was weary of all this. The sudden wish that this seizure might have been enough to kill him was welcome. It would be a delight to be rid of his troubles for once in his life. Zechs was so tired of fighting. But the wish didn't last long, nor did any lingering hope that the effects of the seizure would prove fatal. And so it was that when his eyes finally opened to the world, free of the bleariness, Zechs was again prepared to hold his tongue and speak nothing of what he saw.

He wanted to speak of what he saw, just to free himself from the burden of it all. The seizures were becoming worse with every new set of images. Those that told of the past seemed to bring little physical pain, but he could almost weep like a child after seeing what had been. Those of the present had a balance between the pain of receiving the images and the pain of having to accept what he saw as truth. Of course, those of the future were the most difficult as Zechs would become inflamed with terror amidst a body-wracking struggle to survive the physical onslaught. Such was the case with what he saw of her, being shot, being killed. Of all the things he heard, himself asking her why she had lied about herself, and of her replying that she had forgotten. He would confront her again, he would see her again. But then, Zechs had always intended to confront her. There was no way that he would let Relena or Mariemaia stay there. He had waited too long already. They may indeed be dead by this time.

The baby was crying again. Sound traveled strangely in this house and he could always hear when Treize Alexander started wailing.

 But he had hope. Anne was there. Anne was the one who had the power. Anne would keep them alive.

And if he told Hildre why, then he would never get Anne out of there alive. No one could know who she really was. Either they would kill her when they found her, or they would execute her for treason.

But for now, all anyone knew was that she was a prisoner of the Isle. Zechs would see that things stayed that way.

_Unless Anne does something, unpredictable._

"Zechs? Can you speak? Gimme a sign here, man, I'm starting to get lonely here" Hildre was still with him, no longer scolding. She was starting to shake him hard now. As usual, the damn girl never let up on him.

"You are going to scramble my brains, you damn pain in the ass midget!" he responded, touching a hand to his forehead tentatively.

"I only seem small compared to behemoths that never cut their hair!"

"You mean as opposed to you who is having a constant love affair with scissors. Would it kill you to look try the feminine look?" He bit out at her. Nothing irritated him like comments about his hair. Hildre was thoroughly bristled.

"Doesn't seem to suit you very well, Lady Merquise." She shoved him up to a sitting position none too gently. His head swam painfully. Zechs looked around the room and groaned at the mess. After a moment he sighed and just shook his aching head.

"You know what she is going to say when all this is over?" He stuck his hands in his pocket and quirked up the side of his fine mouth. Hildre smiled at him a little, glad she won the argument of who was coming home. "What will she say"

"That I am a bloody, useless, love-struck, romantic fool"

"And are you?" Hildre smile ended in a mischievous smirk like Zechs' own.

"Well, we'll see. Ask me in a week's time, and we will see. Come on, we need to get back to HQ. There is much to be done" He started out of the room. Hildre practically skipped out behind him.

***************

**_IF__ I was inclined to speak to anyone, I would beg them to just give me the nutrients intravenously, because I HATE porridge. It is like vomit drained of bile and sweetened with sugar.  However, I am not inclined to speak, and so I suffer this vile concoction to be spoon fed me by a frightened looking child who sits at my bedside and tries to keep me awake. Damn Gabriel for forcing me awake and cursing me with such culinary disasters. His punishments are terrible indeed. But let us get back to the dreaming._**

Ireland, could it be any better? I was practically in pain to see the green hills and valleys of our western most territory. How many hours until I would be gone from this house? I couldn't wait. Less than an hour in Dover and I wanted away from that white cliffs with all haste. My sleep was fitful with anticipation. Early in the morning ours, I crept into Aria's room to find her awake as well. We turned on a low light and whispered in our eagerness together. 

But the morning also brought with it my visit with Dr. Felius Alendro, an elderly man who claimed to be Greek despite his Latin sounding name. His brow sloped, stretching his browned skin, and he was extraordinarily thin and lanky. He was not an unkind man, but a little strange in manner, tending to speak in sound bytes and to repeat himself, saying "yes" and "no" more often than he should, as if having a conversation with an invisible colleague. I had a number of tests done; my blood was drawn, my abdomen poked at, a number of fluids taken for testing. I was given several injections. The first of which I was told was to prevent any pregnancy, the rest to prevent certain infections. This surprised me a little, since it was only after the injections that I was asked about the symptoms of pregnancy. I began to suspect pregnancy was merely a detail in this examination, since it I was given what I would later learn was "Abortion Serum" regardless of whether I was pregnant or not.

After the physical examination and various prodding had been concluded, Dr. Alendro began to ask me questions, dozens of them, and all pertaining to my behavior and my psychological experiences. He gave me a series of questionnaires, which took some time to complete, asked me about the food I had been given, my dreams and any night terrors or day dreaming that might have occurred. Lastly, he asked me about voices.

I had heard voices, of course. I spoke to myself often, needimg to know my own resources and the dictates of my own conscience and mind. But did I ever hear voices that were not my own? I do not think so. Did I ever have blackouts? Yes, in moments of extreme stress I have experienced memory loss, fainting. Had I ever experiences depression? I had attended Madame Lefrey's school for Privileged whores, hadn't I? Had I ever lost control of my actions so that I was physically unable to stop myself from acting? Had I ever committed acts of violence, unawares?

Oh no, I most certainly had been aware of killing those people, and I was quite in control of my actions, wasn't I?

The interview dragged on, while an assistant made use of some kind of technology kept in the lab. I didn't like this, I didn't need doctors. No person of the Isle needed doctors. We were strong enough on our own merits. After five hours of tedium and puncturing, I was released. Bram collected me and informed me that Aria and I would be leaving for Ireland the following morning. I willingly forgot all about the dreaded doctor's appointment and spent the remaining time in a whirl of excitement with my sister, to whom I was drawing closer to by the hour.

That night, after Aria and I had packed and were ready for bed, I climbed downstairs, for what I don't remember. I was stopped by voiced and remained hidden on the staircase to overhear Dr. Alendro and Bram speaking in a sitting room just off the area where I was descending.

"Its progression is slow at her age. Yes, slow now, but the disorder has clearly taken root." Alendro was saying in his smoky accented voice. "Soon, yes, very soon. More will come, yes. Likely by her twenties."

"Her father began exhibiting signs much later than that, not until his mid thirties" Bram countered. I stood stock still midway on the staircase and did not breathe.

"Yes, very late for Lord Delizabane. Analicia, no, it will be much sooner with her, as with her great grandmother, much sooner. Aria perhaps as well."

"What about the twins?"

"No, much too soon to tell, must what until puberty for them, must wait some time before any signs will appear. We will check them soon, not too soon though.

I tried to will my heart to stop briefly so that I could hear over its wild beating.

"And what of Kateline? How does she progress?"

Who was Kateline? _I wish I had never found out._

"The disorder is strong in her, most strong, most violent. She keeps killing her tutors. Always hushed up, no one of great consequence. Her guardians are sending her off to the military service in the Rhineland. Yes, they fear for themselves, I think. Kateline is mad, most mad already; dangerously mad, but clever, and more important that they are. Merrick protects her, but does not protect her guardians. "

Oh dear.

"Merrick is disinterested in Kateline at the moment. She appears cunning enough. He seems to think that as long as she is in possession of all her faculties then her violence may be useful. As for Leecy, this is not well at all. I had hoped it would skip her. Do you think it may yet be some other defect?"

"Not likely, no. The genetics are strong in this family. Percentage is against your hope. But we may see. Ireland will do them well, yes. In Ireland we may see if it is the environment or the illness that is at work. Yes, Ireland. We will see after Ireland."

"Very well, I will inform the Count. The girl is not to be informed. Let us just pray it isn't already too late for our Leecy. In the meantime, should she go mad, we will begin planning for other options."

"Will you dispose of her?" the Doctor asked. Bram was silent for a moment.

"That is not something that needs to be spoken of now." He replied lowly so that I almost didn't catch it.

I ran back upstairs, trying to make my steps quiet. Once within my room, I found myself sinking to the floor against the closed door. 

Madness? Was that what they were thinking of me? Was that what the others, those in the Alliance, those who were like Vespertine, thought of me? Was I going to go mad? Was I already mad.

I wanted to cry, I hadn't cried since my mother passed from her life and mine, but I wanted to now. However, I couldn't, and it made my fear stronger by making me think I might be mad if I couldn't cry. Perhaps this was a sign of that "Disorder". I felt myself in sink into shock, until finally, recalling the hope of Ireland they had spoken of, I felt strong enough to pull myself into the bed and to force sleep on myself. In the morning, I would be gone, with Aria, from this house. Not to see it again until that last day of the Rhineland War.

I wish I could tell you how I now pity that young girl I was. How wrong they all were in thinking me mad.  Though I assure you, I was not mad  in those days, not in the slightest. I was merely like a wounded animal, bearing claws when I could bear nothing else. No, not mad at all in those days. It would be later, when Treize Khushrenada came into my life, that I would go mad. And I was in good company for it.

Author's note:

_I'm working on it guys. I SWEAR on whatever heavenly body you favor that this story WILL be completed. I just happen to be one of those slightly neurotic writers who will write an entire chapter and then erase it all in dissatisfaction. My desire for planning, and as Mark Twain said, that lightning bolt that is the right word, will be what delays this story's completion. But it must be done right or it must not be done at all. Thanks for your patience and thanks for sticking around  __J_

_~A._

****


	9. To Live Joyously

All Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 8

**To Live Joyously**

There are colors that are particular to Ireland. Colors that, though I have traveled much of this earth and its surrounding space, I have never encountered again outside the borders of that land. Describing it would be in vain. I can only recall it. Ireland's true description lies only in its experience. Beauty to be sure, but something even more lies in its valleys and rises with its peaks. There is a harmony there that is unequalled. And yet, for this greatness in appearance and spirit, Ireland is perhaps one of the bloodiest places on our earth. Having lived there for a time, and having always wished to live there again, I can see why blood could be easily spilled over such a land. Could anyone relinquish such a prize of land and way of life without fighting for it?

The only thing that surpasses the land in its illustrious qualities is its people. When I was introduced into Ireland and came to know the people, people who have changed little in the centuries they have existed there, I came to understand the human heart. The Irish, unlike any other peoples I have ever encountered, feel with such strength that it impossible for a stranger to not also learn to feel. A man who has no heart for anything will soon find himself a great lover of more things than he could have imagined in the emerald isle. So it was with Aria and I, who had been sent to places that only succeeded in stunting and scarring us that we learned to both live and love among the seasons of beloved Ireland.

We left in the morning.  Several times in the night I had awoken with troubled thoughts, but the morning came nonetheless. It was early when, before we left, I found my way to the third floor where I remembered my mother's room being located. It was an unlocked door somewhere on the left hand side. Strangely enough, it was still just that. Years of her being buried had not changed the status of my mother's bedroom, except for a few brief years when it served as the bridal bower of the woman who was my stepmother. She must have been unremarkable except for giving birth to my brother and sister, neither of whom I had met. Like my mother, she had fallen victim to an untimely illness not too long after the twins were born. I never knew the name of my father's young bride. I never cared to learn. It was not resentment that made me indifferent. She had never been part of my life, or I part of hers. There was no tie that could bind my interest to her and nothing to create such a tie, for she was long dead.

I confess to remembering very little of my mother's bedroom beyond its location, being scarcely five years old when I was sent to the compound to live with Hirumatsu-sama. The room was much like the rest of the house, dark and somewhat sterile. I noted a few boxes lying in dust here and there. Many of them excited my exploration but I had little time to wander the house before Bram would take us away. It was my luck that within the first drawer of a lacquered tower jewelry box, I found my mother's glasses.

They were still in my breast pocket twenty minutes later when I was ushered alongside Aria into a car. I took the glasses out to examine them, holding them up to the light and looking at my reflection in the slightly smeared glass, wondering if I could see my _depravity reflecting back at me through my mother's eyes. I had so little of my mother in me, which had always made me melancholy.  _

"What are those?" Aria questioned me as she tapped her fingers on the interior of the car door.

"They were mother's"

The car door opened beside me, and, hesitantly, a pair of small children was pushed inside by easy yet dangerously capable hands. It was then that I saw my brother Mathius and my sister Shireen for the first time. Aria paid them little attention, she already knew them. Mathius looked something like I had at such an age, with less definition and much shorter hair. He was definitely the boy. Shireen was my very self and it was very startling. I thought perhaps that there was no step mother and that I had been cloned into these two children. They didn't seem to notice me much. Mathius was trying to take a plastic locket from Shireen and she kept shouting and smacking him on the head.

"HEEEEEEEEEY" Aria shouted at them when the car started off with Bram in the front seat next to the driver. A glass window separated the front and back seat. The twin's indeed stopped at Aria's elongated wail.

"What?" Mathius asked.

"SHUT UUUUUUUUUP!" Aria said with equal length. The way it was yelled was too comical to be taken seriously by either child who immediately began laughing at her.

"She's dumb" Mathius whispered.

"You are dumb" Aria stuck out her tongue. Mathius responded in kind.

"He's not dumb! You're dumb, Aria. Cuz you know wha.. you know I… Oh, you know what I can do. I was… yesterday" Shireen started her sentences over and over again, never arriving at her excited point, as very young children I later learned, tended to do. I slipped the glasses on my face to escape the blabbering.

"Why are we going back? We just got back" Mathius asked playing with his fingernails.

"Because he doesn't want us near him." I slumped back in my seat sluggishly. The twins looked at me but didn't understand.

"Which works out fine, because I don't want to be near him either" 

Aria shook her head. "You shouldn't say such things around them. They don't understand."

"They will have to understand soon enough" I shrugged along with my words.

"Let them have a few years then, without all the shit of knowing. It's not their fault you never got that." 

I never liked being reprimanded by my baby sister, and as the years went on, the occurrences of such would become so infrequent that they eventually disappeared. But that of course, is not only because Aria's personality changed, her view of me changed, and I changed myself. On this occasion, however, I turned my head to the window and ignored all of them, hiding myself behind my mother's glasses, thinking about the _Disorder I had, shielding my eyes with the glasses so no one could look into them and know I was tainted by madness. How would I ever fulfill my duties to my family if I was crazy? They had said my father had it too. Maybe then this was a good sign? But it hadn't sounded good. So many unanswered questions; I was beginning to feel like I had been cheated out of half the knowledge of my life, such as why I had been attacked at Lefrey's. There had been more to it than a petty attempt to make me leave. The rape had slowly dissipated into the back of my memory. I wasn't over it, but then again, I remembered very little of the actual event. The events following it clung more heavily in my brain, the events of Vespertine, Aria, and the boy on my balcony._

_That boy. I had never remembered a thing about his face; I could scarcely remember his voice. But he had known what had happened to me. He had been somehow involved in it, though not in the event itself. He said he had met my father, the twins… The twins!_

"You two" I said sternly as I sat up straight in the seat. The two children stopped teasing each other at once and looked at me. My face meant business and they knew it. _My smart little beauties._

"You were in Ireland before"

"Mrs. Mcormick cooks my potatoes bad" Shireen pouted and I took that to mean a yes.

"Did you meet any young boys there?" I asked as Aria began to pay attention.

"No kids, just us."

"No, a boy, like me, my age. A big kid." I tried to display myself in the seat for their understanding. The children looked at each other and Shireen began to giggle.

"He let me pull his coattails"

"Who? What was his name?" 

Shireen kept giggling and put her tiny hands in front of her mouth. Mathius was laughing at her and making cooing noises to tease. Obviously this young man had shown her enough attention that she remembered him with only a handful of life within her. Aria was leaning down with almost as much interest as I. She was better with them as well. I felt sure that either Shireen did not know the answer or she would giggle forever and never tell. But finally, Aria made Mathius stop his teasing and gently asked Shireen the name of the boy. Shireen took her hand off her mouth, exposing a huge smile missing several teeth and answered in a half giggle.

"Mr. Treize"

_Oh my dear reader, was there ever any doubt?_

The name answered none of my questions. So I let it stew in the back of my mind until a time when it would be useful.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We lived wonderfully in Ireland. A house was taken for us just outside of Galaway within easy sailing distance of the Aran Islands. It was a marvelous land where the wind was constantly fresh and smelled of a good clean sea, very different from the coast of Dover, where the wind held a sense of dread for me. Aria and I were installed easily and allowed many freedoms. My father had sent Mrs. Collins along to attend the house, and locals were hired to do extra servant's work. There wasn't much that needed doing as we four children were the masters of the house. Mrs. Collins officially had the rule of us when Bram was not there, but she was in a little fear of us as Delizabanes just as any other servant would be. We tried to be good to her as she had always been good to us, and so we gave her little trouble. Mathius was the only discipline problem. He took to biting everyone when they weren't looking.

I liked my younger siblings more and more as each day passed. We spent mornings with them learning to ride horses. This was to be part of our "refinement" Aria and I were at an advanced level, having already learned much of equestrian sports at Lefrey's. The twins were taught on small ponies that they looked very funny trying to ride. The horse master was a very nice man named Seamus Brenna, his youngest son, Taber, assisted him during our lessons. Mathius did not enjoy the riding as much as his sister did. It was during these exercises half a month into our training that Mathius formed a small attachment to me. He was always one for forcing his will upon the ponies he rode. One morning the small bay he rode would have none of it and bucked him straight off his back onto the hard dirt. Mathius howled and cried and refused to get up. Only I would do. My toffee haired brother wailed until I dismounted and picked him up so that he could howl some more into my hair. I remember my annoyance at being singled out for the chore as I carried him back to the house. But later, when Mathius followed me around and constantly asked me to find him when he hid behind curtains and sofas, that I began to delight in his childish attention. Aria thought perhaps I had a way with children if I just applied myself to it.

"Just make a little effort and you will turn into a Pied Piper for them" I remember when the leaves began turning and I did work my charm on little Mathius by running with him outside and catching the leaves as the wind blew. The sky rained color as both he and Shireen squealed in wonder, darting this way and that trying to catch the impossible autumn in their small hands. I found love in my younger siblings, most especially in Aria. She was my partner in crime. We frequently ditched our afternoon studies to pull pranks inside the city. Our chauffer was a good humored man who just did as he was told, but knew enough to keep us out of real danger. We snuck into cinema theaters and tossed candies off overpasses to see if anyone would dart into the street to get retrieve them. Usually no one did. 

Aria covered for me when I snuck off to the stables after dark to share kisses with Taber Brenna. He was a sturdy sixteen year old with dark hair and boyish Irish features; a very brazen boy who must have seen that the only way to get me was through a challenge. Once, when we were tacking down our horses, we joked and dared each other to do the stupidest things. Finally, he dared me to steal the gum in his mouth. When I refused he teased me and called me a coward until I pinned him down into the hay of one stall (he put up no resistance) and effectively wrested the chewing gum from him. After I had triumphed, neither of us saw any reason to stop kissing. We continued until Aria walked into the stables with her exhausted Arabian. She covered her eyes and yelled that she was now blind from the site, embarrassing us both. 

Taber and I spent many more experimental evenings together. I must credit that vivacious young man with healing my body's fear of a man's touch. By the time of my fifteenth birthday, we had taught each other the extent of physical closeness. We were not in love, and that was alright. We were only teaching each other. Aria would laugh and call me a dirty tramp as she demanded all the details. I loved my little sister Aria. She both understood me and revered me; making me strive toward excellence so that I could be worthy of her good opinion. The awe that sometimes came into her eyes when I told her my thoughts on things was worth all the trouble I had seen in my life. She responded to me like a child to a mother sometimes, and I swelled with pride, remembering how I had promised to take care of her in my mother's stead. Aria and I taught each other to laugh, and to be young, and proud of ourselves, not for our titles, but for our characters. Aria and I taught each other to be good and to be honorable. We taught each other how to live. We swore to each other to always live. We vowed always to survive not just in body, but in spirit. For my part, I kept the vow. 

_"Life seems to have made a great sport of beating us down. I think that such action against us can only be met with the terrible retribution of living joyously"_ I had said in those times.

Please, let me remember that when I wake up and find myself back in the Isle with all my life changed.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * 

_My eyes opened briefly, fixed on the ceiling over my head. This remembering was becoming easier to wake up from. I turned to see a tray of food sitting still warm by my bedside. I ate all the plate had to offer, not wishing to have to be forced awake again to eat. It was better food this time, roasted potatoes and lean pork with mixed greens, good British fare, and not intolerable porridge._

_I felt lightened by both the food and the memory. I wanted to rise and stretch my limbs. It had been so long since I had been out of bed. They had already rearranged my room in a hospital setting which was different from the last time I had been awake. It was only when I tried to move that I realized that there was an IV in my arm. They had been feeding me intravenously. I removed the small needle and rose, holding my slightly bleeding wrist. I got up with a little light-headedness, but found my feet quickly. I was wearing a ridiculous hospital gown. How ugly! My closet was the first place I ventured. Inside laid all the array of my youth and some of my adult years. My clothes, my life still lingered in the closet, I smiled._

_ Several Isle uniforms hung well preserved inside. I found a simple white empire waist strap dress that tied in the back. It would serve well enough for a nightgown. After dressing, I longed for fresh air, like the kind in my memory of __Ireland__. A set of locked French doors lead out to a terrace off my room. It was a feature I had always loved about this room that I so rarely used. They doors resisted me a little as I unlocked and pushed against them. I feared for a moment that Aria had altered them so I might not escape this way. But it was age and not wariness that held the doors fast. A good shove and the cold night air flew in to hit me in the face. I breathed deeply, but knew it was not __Ireland__. This was not __Ireland__. That part of __Ireland__ was gone. Zechs had destroyed it, the place where my sister and I made our vows to live, the place where my brother Mathius had followed me about, the place where I first made love with a man. It was gone. That time of laughter and youth was gone. Zechs had destroyed it with the Libra cannon. Taber and Seamus Brenna might have been killed that day. It was gone, all of it. Zechs had taken it._

_But for me, it was gone long before the first Eve War. It was gone the day I was taken from it. They day Aria and I were taken from the Isle to the city of __Lyon__, in __France__._

_The door of my room unlocked and open and a very sullen looking Gabriel swept over the threshold. I watched him turn back and lock the door from the inside. He walked over to my bed, not looking, but checking his watch. It was almost funny how he remained completely oblivious until he noticed the tray of food was completely empty and that my bed was empty as well. His one eye went frantically around the room until he saw me at the French doors. Immediately he bolted at me and thrust me away from the doors, closing them with a slam. I was not in the least alarmed. The happiness of my memory along with the euphoria of eating a real meal had too many endorphins running in my blood. I didn't feel like being upset by Gabriel. On the contrary, I put my hand over my mouth and tried not to laugh at him. He had come in so oblivious to the change in the room, even the difference in the air from the open doors that I had to laugh. It was all too funny. He was not amused in the slightest, and glared at me with the same animosity he had the last time we met, although he didn't seem as threatening. I saw him look from me to the empty tray and his eye narrowed. It hit me then, I had eaten **his** dinner._

_I couldn't contain myself and laughter poured out shamelessly from behind my hand. Staggering in my mirth, I sat in the chair at the far side of the room. Gabriel was still glaring at me, I could feel it. I knew that it was dangerous to court his anger. But nothing would help it. I looked up at his scowl and laughed even harder._

_"Think I am funny, do you?"_

_I nodded, laughing deep in my throat. It felt so good to laugh. It felt so much like me, laughing at Treize as he looked on, scowling the same way Gabriel did. The parallel seemed so stark that I thought perhaps I had slipped back into my remembering again. But no, the eye patch would always give it away. This was Gabriel, sweet, time-lost, vengeful Gabriel. _

_I felt guilty, remembering the time I had slipped the mask of forgetfulness off for an instant, leaving Anne in the shadows, so that I could strike out and hurt Gabriel. I remember saying those terrible things to him. I knew how much they would hurt. The instant before his palm hit my face, I shielded myself in the forgetfulness that was Anne again, and she took the brunt of the hit, not understanding. Poor Gabriel, he had never known there was more to Anne. I was always there.  Anne was the newcomer. Poor Gabriel, if his heart had been broken, I must have been the one to break it; although I am sure it was not me he had loved. I am not sure he loved either of us._

_"What are you looking at?" he spat. I had been staring the whole time, still smiling off what was left of my laughter. I must have started to look sad or something, because I saw his face soften marginally._

_"I am sorry for what has happened to you" And I genuinely was._

_            I had told myself I would not speak until I had finished my task. Yet I spoke anyway. I felt that he needed the words. I needed to say them as well. There was guilt after all, and it is best to resolve guilt as quickly as possible before it does further damage. But I spoke in my deep accented voice, so that he would know me from Anne, so that he would recognize the deeper unknown portion of a woman he once claimed to love. _

_But Gabriel was not going to make anything easy. He made a grunting sound, set his hands on his hips and turned back to the French doors. I saw him examine the lock, draw something from his pocket, and before I knew it, the lock was destroyed. I would have no luck opening those doors again._

_"Can't have the cuckoo flying from her nest" he said flatly. I simply sighed at his comment, knowing I was no madder than anyone else in the house. I wasn't going to fight with him, I felt too light and airy for it. But then my insides twisted a little and I laughed again._

_"Don't be so bitter. I will likely be throwing up your dinner soon." I rubbed my semi-sore stomach and chuckled. _

_"When did you wake?" his voice was soft. I looked at him and saw his blank expression. Clearly he still did not know what to make of Leecy._

_"I am not yet awake." I said simply. I love confounding people. He scoffed._

_"My God, you are insane."_

_"I'm just working through everything" He was staring out the window as I spoke. For the first time I wondered why he was here. Why he was taking his meals in my room while I lay unconscious as his hated company. Conclusions were not forthcoming and I gave up trying to develop my own. I didn't want to flatter myself with the obvious answer._

_The last of the fresh air was breathed in and the room became stale again. I sighed, losing my grip on that happy memory of beautiful __Ireland__. The __Ireland__ I had left behind so that Zechs could destroy it in his quest for the ultimate peace._

_ . . . Zechs._

_I closed my eyes, and recalled Zechs, his surly expression in the morning before he had his coffee. I smiled, remembering how he would groan every time I played the piano in the formal living room. He thought I played poorly and should just spare him the agony. I remembered how he had told me not to leave the house that last time I saw him; how he implored me beyond his own pride not to leave the estate, not to be stubborn and willful just to spite him, not to think that he was trying to reduce my independence, not to send Wufei away when he came to watch over me, not to be angry that he wasn't telling me the state of the world anymore because he didn't think I could understand anymore. Zechs must have thought I was mad, like the rest of them. No, of course I was not mad. But I was changing. When this is all over, I will need to get some real help. If I get out of this, and Zechs does as well, then I will know where to go and get better. Though, I don't think Zechs would go with me now. He must be so angry with me. I thought of how Zechs must hate the lie he now knew I was. But then, he doesn't have to go anywhere with me. In the end, we are still really nothing to each other. I frustrate him and remind him of things he doesn't want to remember. He has never liked me. He wouldn't stay, I am sure._

_I rose from the chair, melancholy again. In the years he had returned to earth, I had never felt Zechs' absence more keenly then at that moment. I wanted him there to argue with me, to bait me, to deny me. I wanted him there to hold me in place, to remind me of everything I tried to forget. I, Analicia, wanted Zechs there, past Treize, past Gabriel, past even my own baby, I wanted Zechs there. I didn't know what you would call that. It didn't have a name. _

_I wretched suddenly and dove toward the trash basket not far from the bed. The contents of my stomach loosened and exploded from my throat. I tasted that terrible acrid bile and huffed in the aftermath of heaving. Wiping my mouth and leaning against the wall, I saw Gabriel shaking his head, still looking out the window. Did he know how much I wanted Zechs to be there right now? Did he know just how much of a victory his rival had achieved over him and perhaps all because Gabriel walked out that day? But regardless of my longing for Zechs, Gabriel still had some claim over me. There was Treize Alexander._

_Alexander. . ._

_Where was my baby?_

_"Where is Alexander" I asked with a thick throat. Gabriel looked at me finally as if he didn't know who I meant. His thoughts had been elsewhere and finally his concentration clicked back in place. I saw his eye dilate._

_"We did not take the baby with us. Only you, Darlian, and Marie" His voice was shaky, but it was not from emotion. Something was happening. A tremor went up his body and he hissed in breath quickly._

_What followed was a frightening scene. Gabriel gagged and his hand went to the sides of his head. He shrunk down to the ground and I saw with a strange fascination the blood seep from his ears. It was most definitely painful for him, because he yelled and every muscle seemed to first contract and then lock up. Finally, Gabriel pounded his hands into the floor, his eyes wide open, staring in my direction, eyes fully dilated, but not seeing anything. The blood flowed over his cheekbones and dripped off the side of his chin._

_"Stop it, Zero! Stop! Enough!" he gagged out these words repeatedly as he further contorted. I couldn't move, I could only watch._

_"I don't want to see anymore. God . . . Stop it . . . Treize!" these last words made my breath catch. Gabriel finally released a long wail and slumped on the ground, the blood pooling around his dark hair now. I crawled forward then. He was out cold and his brow was puckered and discontent. I wiped some of the blood away from his face. The flow from his ears had ceased now. I turned him onto his back and wiped off his familiar face with the hem of my nightgown. Trying to summon up the old feelings, I put my hand on his forehead. My mind replaying all the tender moments there had been with Gabriel, even as he called me Anne. But my heart was screaming for another. I could hear its wild beat battling back and forth. The first beat cried out for Zechs, the old answering beat echoing Treize._

_It was time to get back to the deed. I used the wall for support and pushed myself back up. However, I only got halfway there and ended up half slumped on my bed, my knees still supporting me as I recoiled into my deep memories. Gabriel had set me to the task by calling out his name. It was time to get to him, time to recall those pivotal times. It was time to remember what had happened with Treize. It was time to deal with what he had done to me, and what I in turn, had done to him._

A/N:

Can't WAIT to get to the third book. I am as anxious and others to have everything come together. I really have to apologize for the change in prose and structure throughout this segment of the story. Right now I am experimenting with different POV's and narrative structures and poor EC is my lab rat. I'm sort of throwing things against the wall to see how they stick for me and I haven't quite found what I like best. Hope it's not confusing anyone or causing any problems. I promise to go back to the default strict 3rd person omniscient for book III, if we ever get to that (we will! I swear it)  I am always open to suggestions on where you think the story is/should go (believe me, my ideas change daily) and often it is good to get outside opinions of what is and is not working for people in a story. I LOVE constructive criticism on any writing. But I do thank all of you for your kind praise. Email me anytime. Lots of love! Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

Oh yeah! Thanks for sticking around Quincy! I thought I might have lost you and I'm always so happy to see your reviews. ^_^

Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

~A.


	10. Seeing and Knowing

Chapter 9

            Hildre pressed the flat of her palm up against the cool glass of the Intensive Care Unit viewing window. She kept it low, near the plastic strip of window that served as a sill, trying not to draw attention to this display of her personal emotion. It wouldn't do for it to be seen, especially since Trowa was nearby, and he always made Hildre uncomfortable. His eyes tended to be too penetrating and she found Zechs' all-seeing gaze preferable to that of Trowa. Zechs had a broad kind of sight, the kind that saw everything all at once and singled nothing out. Trowa could look right at you and know everything you didn't want him to through perception. They were both sitting in the waiting room just outside the door. In window's reflection, she could make out Zechs. His eyes were cast over the cold tile floor, as always, lost in his own thought, and he fidgeted a great deal now, always twiddling his fingers on his lap. She could only make out half of Trowa through the reflection. He was as still as a corpse.

            On the other side of the window, the respirator pumped oxygen into Duo's lungs. There were all manner of tubes coming in and out of him and an array of beeping could be heard even through the glass, each with a different pitch. Duo lay amidst the tangle of tubes and sheets. The skin of his face had the same dry pallor of a latex mask and his features were so slack that he was practically unrecognizable. The doctors had cut his braid off to keep it out of the way, and his hair was now short to his head. Was it really Duo lying in there with his lids so lightly closed they almost looked as if he was about to wake? How could that be the same Duo who had confounded and intrigued her when she worked for OZ all those years ago; the same Duo who had allowed her to shack up with him on L2 even though he was a terrorist and couldn't really risk keeping anybody close; the same Duo she had begged to take her to Earth; the same Duo who had stayed with her in Brussels even though his life had always been in Outer Space; the same Duo with whom her last words had been spoken in anger? He looked like a corpse that was only being held together by string, a shadow of her lover. This was their Duo Maxwell, the great spring of vitality that no one really had the energy to keep up with, that everyone came to like in spite of themselves. Duo Maxwell, the self proclaimed God of Death with an overpowering amount of life, one of the five Gundam Pilots whose number was so infinite it would never come up, how could this be the same? The air was sterile and chilled with no answer for her.

            She turned abruptly from the waxy comatose image separated from her by a thick piece of glass. The whole universe might have been laid inside that pane of glass. Duo was beyond reach. Hildre couldn't linger and watch as the universe inside the glass collapsed with Duo's passing. She wasn't going to stay to witness him wither out of the world without being given a last free breath in it. She set her face firmly and walked back into the waiting room where Trowa rose as she entered. Zechs' demeanor didn't change. He was still lost internally as his fingers worried his kneecap.

"I'm ready" she said flatly with a small clearing of her throat.

"Didn't you want to go _in and see him?" Trowa's penetrating voice was comparable to his gaze. Hildre didn't answer nor look at him. She turned to Zechs and barked to get his attention._

"You can go in if you want"

Zechs was slightly startled, but the Lightening Count had always been good at the quick recovery. His eyes slid into ICU for a moment and then back on Hildre as he rose from the chair, declining the offer. Trowa's face never changed and his body never lost its fluidity as he walked through the hospital with them. If he was disappointed in his two companions, he did not remark on it or show it in anyway. In a solemn single file line which Zechs lead, the three exited the hospital into a waiting car.       

Hildre wanted to ask Zechs if he knew when or if Duo would wake or if he would merely succumb at some moment and fade out. She wasn't sure Zechs had that kind of vision, but even if he did, she couldn't bring herself to ask. The answer was too much of a risk, for she believed everything that Zechs said, even though it was little. If Zechs said that Duo would die, then she would begin burying him immediately inside her heart. She couldn't ask him because she wasn't ready to let the dirt fall on his coffin yet. So she kept her peace. Trowa cut their solemn silence once the car started forward.

"Quatre tracked Alendro to one of the Eastern Seaboard cities. The Magunacs have him in their custody. They will be returning to Brussels directly. We thought it best to bring him here instead of keeping him inside enemy territory."

"Which city?" 

"Boston."

"Humph." Zechs was pensive again. He pressed the tips of his fingers together and frowned in concentration. Hildre watched him closely, estimating him.

"I am not sure Boston is enemy territory" he commented at length.

"Quatre would be inclined to agree with you. He feels the people there are not especially hostile, some just desperate."

"What makes them desperate?" Hildre asked the young man.

"They are in crisis there. A cluster of genetic diseases has ravaged a segment of the population."

"What kind of genetic diseases?"

"Mostly cancer. The radiation from the Third War affected the people who resettled there about a century ago. It mutated DNA and gave rise to a number of genetic cancers that are very difficult to treat. The ESUN has been more preoccupied with rebuilding and maintaining the Colonies to give real attention to the North American crisis. They are coping the best way they can, but in the last thirty years a number of genetic mental disorders have arisen that is making it harder."

Zechs' attention was caught. "What kind of mental disorders?"

"They are mostly aggressive dementia, very aggressive. I don't know much beyond that."

"Humph"

"When will Quatre get back?" Hildre asked.

"Quatre isn't coming back right away. I don't know if you have been told, but his fiancé is missing."

"Okami?"

Trowa nodded. "She disappeared the night of the attack. Quatre thinks she ran away somewhere. She was troubled last time he saw her, deeply troubled. A part of her never seemed to recover from the incident of Lady Une's attempted assassination. He is still trying to find her; limited sources indicate she went west."

Hildre put her head back against the seat. Things were moving too fast to keep up with and change was screaming around every corner. At least she could count on the Gundam pilots to remain somewhat constant in their characters. God knew Zechs would not. He had fazed them out and was once again deep in thought, his eyes tended to bounce back and forth as if he was dreaming while awake. Hildre had a strong feeling he was doing just that. She touched him on the shoulder to wake him back up.

"What are you thinking?" 

He gave her a very cold look that told her she had no right to know. It melted almost instantly, indicating she was one of the only people he would allow to ask. Zechs heaved a sigh and rubbed his face, she could see him trying to push away what ever thoughts had been haunting him.

"I was thinking that Sally really needs a boyfriend." He propped his elbow on the car door and rested his head on his hand. He was lying of course. The comment was so out of bounds that Hildre couldn't help but smile. She liked this aspect of Zechs, when he showed himself to be still human with human thoughts, humors, and whims. Sometimes, especially lately, she worried that the humanity was seeping out of him as the visions became more frequent.

"Are you volunteering?" Trowa ventured with only a slight change in his voice to hint at amusement. Zechs forehead wrinkled.

"She's not my type. Not that she isn't attractive. Just not what I go for."

"What is your type, Zechs?" Hildre pursued. She knew the answer, but she wanted to see how far he was willing to go. He caught on to her unspoken game immediately and Hildre wondered if Trowa, with his uncanny perceptions, would catch on too.

"I like my women at least half my size, raven-haired, light eyes, and very subordinate, under my direct command. You know anyone like that, Hildre?" He winked at her, and she would have laughed at his flirtatious evasion of the truth if the Duo-shaped hole inside her hadn't prevented it.

"Really? I have always thought your tastes ran toward the Commander's chair, not the subordinate's." she pushed back. Now he wasn't amused. The slight smile remained but the levity left is eyes, letting her know that she was treading on unwelcome grounds. 

"Only career wise, Miss Schbeiker. " There was a tense moment of silence following. Trowa broke it.

"I thought you two knew about Sally."

"Know what?" Hildre asked him. He recoiled slightly and was silent. Hildre stammered a breath out. Had she actually caught Trowa Barton saying more than he had meant to?

"What are we supposed to know about Sally?" Zechs asked rubbing his temple with eyes closed.

"Is she in love with Wufei? That's it, I knew it! That has to be it!" Hildre leaned over Trowa to get some clue. The former Heavyarms pilot only looked at Zechs. The two met eyes and a distinctly male communication passed between them. Hildre looked from one to the other. Finally Zechs chuckled cynically in understanding, still rubbing his temple.

"God, you can't be serious, Trowa."     

Trowa nodded.

"What?" she crowed.            

"It explains so much. I'm completely blind to those kinds of things."

"WHAT?"

"See, I told you she wasn't my type." Zechs emphasized his point with a wave of his finger. The car halted at Preventer Headquarters.

"Guys, tell me! What?"

"We'll tell you when you are older, little one" Zechs answered her as he exited the car. Hildre huffed in frustration, but soon realized the frustration was a welcome distraction from the ICU that housed what was left of Duo Maxwell. She was undoubtedly ashamed of the way she sought refuge from her thoughts of Duo. But her discipline had been honed by this past year working with the Preventers. Dwelling on unchangeable things only hampered one's ability to work. Now was not the time to be lost in grief over Duo, not when so much was happening. This was an important time. Things had been moving so fast and then had suddenly halted. The world had stopped and become quiet again, which, according to Zechs, indicated an approaching explosion. Duo could not cloud her mind while she needed to keep it sharp. She had also come to admire the way people like Zechs and Lady Une carried themselves in crisis, always calm and in control. Sometimes Zechs had outbursts. He was never as passive as Lady Une when it came to stress. But essentially they were both able at carrying their troubles in some higher compartment of their brain where it wouldn't interfere with duty. Hildre wanted that kind of control. Even Zechs' words to her yesterday did not deter her.

_"It is not control, Hildre. It is coldness. In Anne's case it is something far worse."_

Hildre couldn't give full credit to what he said about Anne, due to his reluctance to say her name, and the tone of his voice when he did. Clearly, Zechs was deeply angry with her, deeply affected by her, and very frustrated with that fact. After all this time, Hildre had become very intuitive when it came to Preventer Wind. It wasn't likely that he would ever admit to being in love, but nor would he deny it. At first she had thought that he was merely acting out of an insane sense of obligation. But no, she had seen enough in him to tell the difference. She thought perhaps that this kind of love was a new thing for him. It was certainly not the garden variety romance. Neither Zechs nor Lady Une had ever appeared to be made of romantic timber. All they had ever done together was fight and disagree, and yet they had been living together for over a year. If that was love, it was the most unconventional kind she had ever seen, certainly nothing like she had experienced with Duo. But again, as far as Zechs went, ordinary love seemed out of place. He was anything but average and so no average kind of love would suit him. Zechs Merquise was a man almost beyond the realm of handsome, and yet Hildre knew that women drawn to him physically were quickly put off by his personality. It took a special kind of woman to break through his walls and put up with his tantrums. He was introverted in some respects, but confrontational enough to ward off the kind of women who are drawn to "quiet types". Principal among his flaws was his tendency to dominate every situation he was involved in. That was why he was constantly fighting with Lady Une. She was the undisputed queen bee of her office, of her household, and of her life. Hildre had watched as the two tried to manage each other for the better part of a year and came out of each attempt with new resentment, new challenges, and new arguments for each other. If that was love, then it was beyond her understanding. But of course, there was always the sides of them she didn't see, and she felt that it was there were their connection might truly lie. Perhaps she was wrong, although she doubted it. For Anne's part, she could make no assumptions about affection. Zechs, at least to her, was an obvious case.

Hildre didn't know how much of Zechs was obvious to others. He really only allowed her into his company these days. She was his personal aide, a full-fledged Preventer in everything but name. Zechs recognized that she wasn't afraid of him, and she wasn't in the least. It was his_ gift_ that unsettled her, not the man himself.  But that kind of attitude made him keep her close. She was, in essence, the only person he trusted right now.

There were reports abound when they reached the upper level where the Commander's office, now Zechs' office, was located. Luscian Tenne, Tenacious was waiting inside the office with Sally. Hildre could feel the young man's confidence radiating from the hallway. He was ready with a report on a recent encounter with the Isle Calypsos. They were not responding to the EMP with the same efficiency as before. In some cases the Scorpio's EMP had no effect at all. The Calypso suits had hit there target in Korea undetected, taken pot shots at a few Scorpios, and retreated.

"We can't track 'em. Can't track 'em, can't engage 'em, can't stop him. You're brilliant strategy is loosing its shine." He said to Zechs. Hildre marveled at the man's audacity and constant criticism. Zechs usually gave him warning looks, but never really brought him a notch. She thought perhaps Zechs saw a little of himself in the daring Tenacious. As she pondered him, Ten caught her heavy stare, and winked. Hildre blushed in spite of her steadiness.

He was right, however. Their means of defending against the Isle suits were failing. The enemy had found a way around their attacks. It was back to square one again. If they didn't find a new successful plan, the world would come crashing down around them. For two weeks, the nation had been in a state of emergency, deferring the structure of power to the local level. In short, all former territories were taking care of themselves until the crisis passed, or the world changed again. It was ironic to Hildre. Lady Aria had desired the dissolving of the ESUN and the relinquishment of her nation to its own control. In a way, she had gained it. With the ESUN in suspension and the Preventers acting as a protective cleaning crew, every nation was left to its own devices to survive, local governments where becoming national governments. Everything was reverting back to the way it had been centuries ago. Had Aria known this would happen? She didn't think so. Zechs had once said that Aria's motives and intensions all tended around a confined location. She only cared about the Isle and the former United States, everything else could burn.

Perhaps everything else would burn.

"The Colonies are getting edgy. There have been reports of increased bartering at La Grange Point. There isn't much trade going on from the Earth Sphere, so they are trying to compensate and maintain their local economies. Local politicians are speaking out against the structure of the ESUN."

Zechs rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat in his chair. "They know very little of democracy, of its setbacks and failings. The Colonies are used to having their government spoon-fed to them. So if something goes wrong, they start getting insecure, thinking the ground will fall out from underneath them"

Hildre was a little put off by the Commander's summation of her Homeland. "It's not easy living life in Space" she countered from the side, keeping her eyes forward and unobtrusive while Zechs scoffed. 

"Living life is not easy on any grounds. Doesn't matter if it's made of earth or metal."

"You have orders, sir?" Ten had no interest in philosophic discussions, only his orders.

"No. You are dismissed. When I have orders, you will hear them from your superiors. I give commands to them first." Zechs waved the man off, which clearly offended the youth. Tenacious did not like to be dismissed. Zechs was likely giving him a lesson on the chain of command. Ten saluted crisply and left without objection. Hildre dropped down in the chair in front of Zechs' desk. She was tired. They were both tired.

"You ok?" he asked her.

"Yeah, just worried about all of this." She answered him.

"I meant about Duo."

She didn't answer. It wasn't to be discussed now. Other things needed attention. "What are you going to do about the Isle?" she asked. He looked at her for a while; his eyes were reserved, cool, like well water. 

 "I am waiting. I am waiting to See more."

"You haven't Seen enough yet?" Not everyone knew about his visions, but enough people did. But none of them knew what he Saw. He hadn't even told her about what he had Seen and she had come to fear what might lay on the horizon of Zechs' foresight. It might be terrible if Zechs felt he couldn't speak of it.

" Understand, Hildre, I am not the only one who is able to See" he whispered, then fell silent. Hildre wondered what he meant. But he wasn't going to talk. It was evident in his body language. When he was silent like this, it reminded her of the first time she had really met him, after Noin's funeral when she, a bubbly young woman still called Hilde by most, tried to coax him into playing a game of soccer. He had been morose and quiet then. If he didn't want to talk, then there would be no making him, even if it made him miserable to be silent, and she suspected it did make him miserable. Hildre thought that Zechs had probably always been this way, a servant to his own ongoing misery. She also wondered if he liked it that way, if suffering was so frequent in his life that it was comforting, familiar.

"Do you think you will ever stop suffering?"

Zechs snapped his attention to her.

_Boy that worked. I'll have to use that line more often_ she thought to herself. Zechs curled his fingers slowly into a fist, but he leaned back loosely. After a ten second pause that Hildre felt every beat of, he cracked a smile.

"You know she asked me that once before too and in just the same way" he answered. Hildre rolled her eyes sarcastically at him. Again with the Anne references. He needed to keep his mind off unattainable women.

"Are you STILL on about _her? Pfff… We need to get you some fresh meat. Maybe you should take a stroll down Buchard Avenue. See the sights, ride the rides" _

"That's the red light district, bitch" he glared at her while she laughed. 

"I'm glad to see you're already familiar with it."

"Maybe I should just take you to bed. It would be faster and cheaper" He flicked his eyebrows at her jokingly and she laughed at his cruder side. But now really wasn't the time for off-color humor.

"Now, we need a plan of action. I trust you, Zechs, but you heard what Ten said. The EMP's aren't working. We can't wait on the possibility that you will have another useful vision, one that won't kill you that is. Things are going to fall apart if we don't move."

"Ah, but don't you see the difference. We haven't been moving. Neither has the Isle. Things are at quite a standstill right now. All there has been since they attacked Head Quarters and the Khushrenada estate is piddling crap, small attacks, flee bites compared to what they were doing before. They have stalled. They are waiting for something. We have some time, but not much." His voice trailed off and he began losing his train of thought. Sometimes his thoughts and thought patterns mesmerized him, she had seen it happen before. He would lose himself in inner musings.

With a jerk, Zechs pushed himself erect in the chair and started shuffling through papers. "Not too much time left, some but not too much". Just as abruptly he stopped, with a handful held aloft, and flung them over the desk.

"I hate paperwork" he hissed. Hildre looked at him with confusion. Zechs could be downright weird. 

"I think I should go" she whispered. He might be about to have another fit. But unlike the previous times, Hildre didn't feel strong enough to witness this one.

"Send Wufei to me . . .  and I will need to talk to Trowa. I need to know about Yuy." He started rambling, eyes darting as if reading the air. She had the sense that he was watching something inside his head, events and voices of what he had seen, replaying in the hopes that they would make sense. "Go home for a while, Hildre. Go do something that will relax you. I know seeing Duo today was hard."

"I can take it."

"You shouldn't have to. Only impossibly stupid people keep themselves in a state of misery. It's why she and I are so well suited. I see that now."  

He didn't say anything more, but started retrieving and sorting the papers he had scattered. Hildre watched her oblivious commander for a moment longer; then walked out of his office. He was right. She needed to relax for a little bit, but not think of Duo. There was no time for Duo now. Time had run out for Duo long ago and now the seconds were merely speeding then both away. But she couldn't think of that now. So she made her way to the Armory where the Scorpios were stored. She would find the appropriate relaxation there.

*************************

            I remember the portrait. It had been painted while I was at Madame Lefrey's, one of the many reasons I hated it. I had just turned fourteen when they dressed me in my family regalia and put my likeness down in oils. Physically, it was an excellent. It took on everything that youth had bestowed to me. My hair curled tightly in those days, before the war would give me the fever strong enough that would completely straighten it. In my younger days, my hair had been far darker than it became in my adulthood, and I was some years away from the sculptured features that time and trials would award me. However, I never held myself as I did in that portrait, even when I did wear the uniform of my father's army. The posture was too authoritarian. I, especially in those days, had never had such authority. True, I have been a leader, but I never carried myself in that way. That was a Treize stance. I hated it, because I did not see the girl in the picture as me. The portrait hung in the house in Ireland while we stayed there. Aria admired it greatly. I never really told her of my dislike, instead I basked in her admiration of me. 

            I remember that I was reading when Bram came that day. It was cold that day, winding down to winter. The rest of the weather of that day was lost to my memory. Perhaps it was raining. Maybe there was sun. The only thing I really remember was that there was Bram, tall and strong, with a slight, fatherly smile on his face, standing there in my room as I entered it.

"Leecy, you look very well" was all he said at first as he looked me over. He undoubtedly noticed the tan I had gained from my hours in the sun with Aria. My hair had taken on a red sheen as well from sun-kissed highlights. Most of all, I am sure he noted that I was happy; my life had been a dream in Ireland, and the blacker events, the rape, my apparent mental disorder, a nightmare now passed. I bowed to him, smiling.

"I see you have grown up. Quite a young beauty" Bram said. Then he did something odd. He walked toward me and embraced me, as if he were an uncle I had not seen in years, or better yet, a father. I embraced him back, glad he had come. He would want to hear of all the progress I had made. I asked him if he would take tea with us, it being almost four o clock. He agreed and I ran to get Aria. She was not as happy to see Mr. Wickfield as I. Aria was never as close to our father's chief attendant and suspected his presence heralded another change in our life. Mrs. Collins sat with us as we had our snack. Bram quietly listened to our chatter. The twins were not present, off somewhere else. I don't remember where. At length, I asked a question that had worried me the moment I had seen him.

"Is father coming?"

Bram put down his tea and cleared his throat. "No"

"Are you taking us home?"

Again he shook his head. I smiled in relief.

"I was afraid you had come to take us back."

"No Leecy, not back, not home, but you will be leaving Ireland."

My heart dropped and I grasped Aria's hand. My first concern was to stay with my sister. We would not be separated again. Beside me, Aria squeezed my hand.

"Do not fear, my child, Aria will be with you. But you both are leaving."

"Where are we going?" I remember my voice sounding so young and scared. The last time I had been taken away, it had not ended well.

"You and Aria are going to Lyon. It is time for you to be introduced into Romafellar." He answered smoothly and took up his tea. I stood at once, outraged.

"Are you mad Bram? I cannot go before Romafellar, not after what happened. They will know me for what I am and for what I did! Why is my father doing this? You told me he was not angry with me for what happened at the school." I probably looked close to tears, but as always, I never cried.

"You will be protected, Leecy. Do not fear. What you did, is not all that uncommon in Romafellar, and certainly not uncommon for your family. I suspect many members believe you did the natural thing. It is time you and your sister learned the world you will soon have to live in and how your family relates to that world."

I stood, reeling on the inside. Within me, every jerk my life had been given, from the Dojo, to Lefrey's, and then to Ireland, was replaying. I was getting so tired of being pushed around to different locations to _learn_ about myself and my family. But for all I had endured, I knew so little. I was angry, as always. When was I to be in control of my own path? Why didn't I get to know about where I was heading? Was it all supposed to come crashing down on me one day, and then I would understand? What was Eldest Child and how would anything I had experienced aid me in holding the position? I was tired of all this maneuvering.  But I was also resolved. It was time to get some answers; to take some initiative. I turned on Bram and held my spine straight, instinctually lowering my voice as I asked the question. 

"Bram, you will tell me who Jareth Khushrenada is." It was, or course, not a request. Bram looked at me for a moment, sipped his tea and rose. I thought perhaps I had overstepped my bounds and he was angry. But as he approached me, he swept down before me in a low western bow. He had been waiting for me to assume an attitude of a woman with a title before he would behave as a subordinate. It had been a matter of me understanding our respective places. He was my servant, as they all were. I never thought until that moment that they were all under my command. Everyone, save my father, belonged to me. I was Lady of Dover, Countess of Mortain. This was my right. At my feet, Bram reported.

"My Lady, Jareth Khushrenada is the patriarch of the Khushrenada family, who reside in Lyon. It is to his home that you and your sister will be traveling. His family is very powerful in the foundation, like your own family."

"Has my father given me over to him?"

"Pardon?"

"I have met the young man, Treize."

"You've met Treize Khushrenada? Where? Did that hooligan show his face in this house? If he so much as-"

"I met him at Madame Lefrey's. I am sure you and my father knew what he was doing there. Now tell me what he has to do with me. Has my father arranged for me to become a member of that family?"

Bram shook his head, laughing slightly. "No Leecy, Jareth Khushrenada had hoped to strike a match between you and his eldest son. He met with your father several times to discuss the matter. You see Leecy, the Khushrenadas are extremely powerful and influential. They are directly related to the Dermails. Duke Dermail is of course the head of Romafellar. Jareth's son, Treize is being groomed to become the ruling officer of Romafellar's military instillation, OZ. Jareth, to his credit, recognizes that the Delizabanes have great power in the Foundation as well. Your family surpasses the wealth of such families as the Weyridges and Catalonias. If the Khushrenadas wish to cement their power in Romafellar, marrying into the Delizabanes would be the golden key to it."

"Why are we so powerful? We do not even associate with these people you speak of."

"Your family is a member of the Foundation. It has been for over one hundred and fifty years. But because of the cultural beliefs of our Isle society, we do not advertise our involvement. Romafellar is extremely aristocratic. We prefer to be less pretentious of course. But our value within the society is not to be taken lightly. We are the largest producers of Mobile Suits in the Foundation. Your father owns every Mobile Suit manufacturing plant in the Isle and in the Rhineland. Your father is a defense contractor for the Alliance and for OZ. The Isle is where new Mobile Suit technology is designed. Or did you never wonder what took place in the complex behind the manor house? And of course, Romafellar has certain advantages for us as well."

Yes, it all made far more sense now. I should have asserted my authority in this fashion long ago.

"And am I engaged to Mr. Khushrenada's son, for he seemed to think so when last we met." I asked.

"No, your father would have none of that. He does not hold to arranged marriages. You are to be Eldest Child in his place. If you should marry a Khushrenada, undoubtedly you would lose your power to your husband. Merrick would never have that. Those Khushrenadas are tricky, and your father abhors them. Besides, your father has plans for you that extend beyond being a simple wife to an arrogant aristocrat. He would rather see you dead than married into to their treacherous brood."

"And yet you are sending Aria and I to them." This was more puzzling by the moment. But I was relieved to find I had not been given to anyone.

"Trust your father's judgment, Leecy. It is for your benefit that he sends you there."

It was perhaps the first time I had ever glimpsed the encompassing world of my future. That future stood on the edge of my vision, startling and vast, like an ocean. It covered the whole horizon and I knew something more would be required of me if I was to stay afloat. I would keep this authority I had so recently grasped, and I would hold onto my anger. It could keep me strong and alert. Sighing heavily, I turned to Bram, my face fixed as I shakily assumed the poise of a Countess. Unbeknownst to me, I had just taken my first real step toward Lady Une.

"Bram" my voice was already inching toward the depth I carry today.

"I have waited a long time for you to grow into yourself, my Lady. It is my honor to serve you, as I serve your father." He still knelt before me. His pride and flatter did not soften me.

"Whenever I have a question, you will answer it. You will not skitter about the truth. I want to have full knowledge of ever situation I am walking into in Romafellar. Neither I, nor my sister will be kept in the dark again."

Bram nodded obediently. It was completely surreal, but also invigorating to hold such power over men, to realize the length of my grasp after so spending so much time under the blind direction of others. Sitting on the chair, I could feel Aria's fascination soar as if it were a tangible line connected to my brain stem. I sat down again, allowing Bram to regain his own seat across from me, ready for any question. By this time, the transformation into Countess had been completed, the rush of power relieving any apprehension. From the instant I took my first taste of it, the ability to command came as natural to me as breathing. 

"Now" I started, picking up my tea again. "Tell me of the mental disorder that Dr. Alendro believes I have."

Without hesitation, he told me everything. It was called _Mentescadere _(sinking of the mind), the genetic dementia inherited from my American bloodline. A dominate trait disease that withers the senses and causes violent tendencies in the bearer, onset during puberty, symptomatic by early twenties. In its kinder forms, it manifested itself as acute memory loss and gradual loss of wits, not unlike Alzheimer's. The more severe cases resembled paranoid Schizophrenia, complete with violent outbursts and loss of focus and lucidity. The first stage of the disorder was called the Functional Stage, where the affected could still carry out daily thoughts and tasks with little interruption. Passing years would bring on more severe symptoms, finally spiraling into madness with either complete loss of memory or complete reinvention of the past. 

We spoke of it at length before Bram respectfully reported that we should begin preparation for our departure. I dismissed him and had Mrs. Collins summon the children to me. She bowed with deference, acknowledging my newly discovered authority. Soon, my little brother and sister were before me, Mathius stealing crackers from the table. I sadly told them of our imminent departure. They both cried. I held them for a long while, especially Mathius. . . that is all I wished to recall of those moments.

After dinner, I met with Taber and told him the news. He was unhappy, but his tone as he spoke told me this day had never been far from his mind. "There's not a man alive that has a grip tight enough to hold onto you."  He kissed my forehead and left me. It was the last I saw of my 'true' first. 

We oversaw packing that night. Aria and I were unusually quiet; both pondering what lay ahead of us. The finery was paramount in our travel cases. We would need our luxuries in Lyon among the aristocratic elite of Romafellar. However, our uniforms would also be donned and they were carefully packed. Bram explained that it would important for us to distinguish ourselves among the rabble. There were so many young women among Romafellar functions that they became nameless and faceless. If we did not wish that to happen, we would need to wear something that signified us as someone above the rest of the crowd. 

"Do not forget these." Aria spoke, handing over our mother's glasses from her desk drawer.

"And this, you will want this" I pointed to a book on her shelf. It was a book of Roman commentaries. Chief among them was the account of Anthony and Cleopatra. She particularly enjoyed the phrase 

"_Et rogavit Romana,_

_'Haec te __Regina__ bene facere erant?'_

_ Et servus respondit,_

_ 'Superus bene. _

_Ceu congruous exterum  tot  regium nobelium.'"_

****

**_ "And the Roman asked,_**

**_ 'Were these things well done by your Lady?'_**

**_ And the servant answered_**

**_ 'Exceedingly well. _**

**_As befits the last of so many noble rulers' " _**

Aria found the passage extremely meaningful, almost in a prophetic sense. She never tired of me reading the line to her, always saying she preferred it from my mouth than from her own. 

The next morning we rose early and took a last walk around the property. It was the last look I had on fair Western Ireland, a fact that sticks in my throat to this day as one of the only reasons for which I might hate Zechs. It was cool, but still misty near the blue-gray sea. The grass under our feet was bitten by cold and crunched like hay under our heels. And it was quiet, so quiet but for the waves, peacefully quiet, not like the quiet of Space, not empty.

 We departed directly, this time by air, which was so much faster than traveling the channel sea. We flew directly to Lyon were a car awaited to take the three of us, Aria, Bram, and myself, to _Manoir Cristal, the opulent estate of Jareth Khushrenada. Neither of us was nervous at that point. In fact I think my sister and I felt quite indifferent as a matter of defense. The coiled-iron gate that marked the property was not unlike our own in Dover, bearing an ornate K as opposed to the familiar D. Frost clung to the grassy stubble of the lawn, it glistened in the afternoon light. The house behind the gate was a white Georgian behemoth that rose endlessly toward the stratosphere. A dozen large columns lined the front of the house, holding it up. They were etched with a fine Neo Classical scroll work. It was elegant, but the sheer size of the manor hinted at robustness. To me, though I would now admit to loving the _Manoir_, then it was just another oversized house, likely sheltering a gaggle of oversized egos._

"It looks like a library" murmured Aria beside me.

A beautiful woman was there to greet us, standing on the veranda just off the stone steps that lead off the columned porch. She wore yellow silk and chiffon that spilled out behind her in a wave, with a fur-lined yellow shawl sheltering her from the bite in the air. Her hair was black and shimmering, tied back with a band of yellow to match the dress she wore. Her skin was tanned but not enough to be considered anything more than Mediterranean tinted. Her eyes were bright blue and they stood out keenly from dark lashes. Underneath the skin, equally delicate bones made up the planes of her face and body, arranged petite with gentle curves. She stood taller than I, slender but still womanly. Everything about the woman was graceful and gentle. In a single word, she was perfect. 

Behind her, two young men stood; hands and arms folded behind their backs. One was tall, as tall as my father, his hair was a brownish-chestnut color, but his eyes were downcast as if he were bored. The other was only a boy, much smaller than the other, his hair dark and his skin like the woman in yellow. He wore a friendly smile but his eyes glistened with mischief.

"Bienvenido" the woman called out and smiled. Her face was brilliant and so fragile looking she might have been a young girl. But I could spot a matriarch at fifty paces. This was no girl standing before us. 

"I am Maria Arcardia Saez Khushrenada, Duchess of Aquitaine." She reached out and grasped my hand in a feminine hand shake before taking hold of my shoulders and kissing each cheek. Her name and accent indicated a Spaniard, an enchanting lady with an enchanting voice. She looked me over with a gentle smile for a long time, making me feel like precious art.

"Es hermosa, senor Wickfield, y  dignificada" Lady Arcardia  cupped my chin, leaning my head back to further examine my features.

"It is only the beginning, Your Grace, I assure you. She is still quite young" Bram replied politely.

"Soy seguro, Senor" She smiled one last time and gave an approving nod. I smiled shyly in return, feeling very good about myself then. Lady Arcardia moved on to my sister, who backed away a little as if intimidated by the incoming attention.

"Ah! Another young beauty, but so diferente. Lovely red hair." The woman was able to catch Aria and bestow the same admiration.  Aria looked as if she were caught in the headlights, not as receptive to compliments as I. When she had finished her examination and greeting, she began again.

"Welcome to _Manoir Cristal, my young Ladies. We are honored to host the House of Delizabane in our home and hope that the young Countess and her entourage find everything acceptable."_

I nodded to her cordially, still feeling the effects of this deference.

"My husband is from home at the moment and regrets that he is not able to greet you, but we expect him tonight at the latest. These young men lurking behind me are my sons, Gabriel, and Alejandro. Gabriel, venga adelante." She motioned to the younger of the boys and he came up beside her, still smiling pleasantly.

"Gabriel Frances Khushrenada" he bowed to me. I respectfully nodded, returning my full name to him, Aria following suit. Arcardia rubbed the shoulder of her youngest son affectionately and I was set at ease by the display of familial love. It was plain to see that Gabriel was her favorite. The other boy hung back with his distracted eyes still lingering on the ground. He had begun chewing on his thumb nail, seemingly in boredom.

"And this is Alejandro, my first born." She turned to present him and called his name again, but he was too distracted to heed the call. Arcardia's pleasantness wavered for a moment under this aberration in procedure.

"Treize, maintenant!" 

He snapped, like a soldier, to immediate attention. His hands dropped behind his back and he stood tall, finally meeting our gaze. He obeyed his mother's beckoning arm and came forward to stand beside her. Courteously, he bowed to us, taking each of our hands and kissing them according to French custom.

"Treize Alexander. It is a pleasure to see you again, Countess." Within one breath, he had confirmed what I already knew, and it didn't set me at ease. I had hoped that we might forget there had ever been a first encounter. But when he raised his eyes to me, the dormant memory returned and I remembered him clearly from when he had stepped into the light on my balcony at Lefrey's. That night had been so filled with dread and anger that I had not marked him at all. But something inside us records everything. Looking at Treize, my mind turned easily over his features, somehow as familiar as my own; the blue eyes, the pale skin, the eyebrows that turned up at the ends, the knowing sparkle in his smile.

I think we looked at each longer than normal, for Lady Arcardia cleared her throat and Treize broke eye contact before he moved on to greet Aria,

Let me clarify however, that there was no flashing of  life before my eyes, no stilling or picking up of the wind, no lightning strikes or chorus of birds. There was nothing remarkable about my first true meeting with Treize Khushrenada. All there was for me was a mental "ah ha, so that's what he looks like". I didn't feel that anything about him was particularly special. Only in hindsight do I recognize the importance of things.

 "Did Lord Delizabane not come, Senor Wickfield?" Lady Arcardia allowed Bram to hold her arm as we all began walking toward _Manoir Cristal_. Treize offered his arm and I indifferently took it, more intent on what Lady Arcardia had asked about my father.

"Important business keeps him homebound. But he will be joining you for your famous Christmas Tide celebration." Bram answered her. Lady Arcardia laughed in response.

"Si, we have quite a nice turn out at our holiday parties. Many of the young soldiers from the Academies attend as well. I am sure the young ladies will have much attention directed toward them."

I heard Aria audibly grunt at the comment and I turned around a little to give her a sympathizing smirk. Beside me, Treize laughed.

"You will have difficulty if you wish to hide yourself from everyone this time, Miss Analicia. I don't think my mother will allow you to sequester yourself inside your bed chamber night and day."

I threw the arrogant little twit a glare and stopped briefly. How dare he be so forward with me not even five minutes after our introduction? But my annoyance only seemed to fuel his desire to bait me. "Oh, how rude of me. I should be more deferential to your title, my Lady." He tugged me along then, hard enough that I couldn't really resist him without causing a scene, and he certainly wasn't worth making a scene over. Instead I cleared my throat and tried to ignore him even as he continued to chuckle under his breath as we walked. But I held my arm rigid under his to express that he was not at all making a good impression. Treize felt it and patted my wrist condescendingly, muttering between his laughs.

"It will be quite fun having you with us, my Lady."


	11. The Start of a War

Chapter 10  
  
"We are right in the middle of force-five Shit Storm."  
~Zechs Merquise  
  
It didn't take many days at Manoir Cristal for me to figure out that Treize Khushrenada was painfully annoying and legitimately damaged. I first realized this while in one of the ante chambers reading the books Mrs. Collins had found for me on Anatomy and Physiology (I wanted to learn about medicine since the poisoning and this felt like the natural step). He shuffled into the room after I had settled myself on the sofa and then he wouldn't sit still. He poked around the pool table, smacking the balls around, trying to make noise rather than practice. He cleared his throat abruptly fourteen times in ten minutes (I counted). Then, finally, he walked up behind me and grabbed the book out of my hands.  
  
"Do you mind?" I barked at him as he started flipping through the papers.  
  
"Oh, no, not at all, thank you" he replied and started walking from the room. "The Endocrine System, exciting." I was up and after him immediately. That book had been hard to get a hold of.  
  
"Give me back my book!"  
  
"What did you say, my Lady? I don't hear so well in this ear" he stuck his pinky finger in his left ear and whispered "Firecracker episode, very unpleasant."  
  
"I said give me my fucking book." I reached for it, but he pulled the classic cliché of a taller man and held it above his head while I jumped around him trying to get it.  
  
"Whoa. speaking of firecrackers! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"  
  
"My mother is dead, bastard."  
  
"She must have died of a broken heart when you learned to talk." He smirked at me, meanly. My jaw dropped at his insult and I reflexively socked him in the stomach. He doubled over a little and I was able to snatch my book back and push him away from me into the closed door. He laughed through his discomfort while bracing himself on a side table.  
  
"My, aren't you a feisty one. I guess it's true what they say about you Isle girls, Dur pour se tenir.  
  
"I don't speak French, idiot. Why don't you go off somewhere and grow up!"  
  
"Tough to hold. And believe me, Lady, I am very grown up." He flicked his eyes at me suggestively and I gasped at his audacity.  
  
And this is the man that would one day rule the world. Scary, isn't it? This was only the first of such incidents. On another occasion, he slipped whiskey in my orange juice during breakfast, causing me to spit it out in front of the entire family. This would particularly bother anyone who had been poisoned, and I felt like wringing his arrogant neck. But his mother got to him first, Lady Arcardia knew that Treize was the culprit and she admonished him soundly while I drank Aria's orange juice to clear out the terrible taste.  
  
"Alejandro! What is the matter with you boy?" She proceeded to curse him out in Spanish. And young Gabriel found himself being admonished when he laughed at his brother's misfortune. Lady Arcardia banished Treize from the table and tried to apologize to me for her son. "He is a terrible prankster, Countess, quite unruly. He always behaves like this when his father is away. Only Jareth seems to be able to keep him in line."  
  
"He says he is bored, Madre." Gabriel offered his view.  
  
"And just how can he be bored, Gabriel? He has spent the last three years at Academy and I know that they run the students ragged there. This is his vacation time and he is already bored?"  
  
"Est el arreglo, Madre. Èl no lo desea." Gabriel tried to be discreet by speaking Spanish, but I had learned a number of things in Ireland and grasped what was spoken fairly well. "It is the arrangement, Mother. He does not wish it."  
  
"No es su decision. Pero no ahora, Gabriel" It's not his decision. But not now, Gabriel. She silenced the conversation with a wave of her hand, once again apologizing to me.  
  
It wasn't until the third occasion that I discovered there was actually something wrong with Treize Alexander Khushrenada. It was out in the rose garden on a December morning. I had finished reading the chapter I had wanted to early, and so I walked the grounds of Manoir Cristal. It had snowed the night before and the whiteness of the ground coupled with the beautifully sculpted white and light grey of the house made for a scene too enchanting to pass up. The Khushrenadas were Catholic and extremely festive when it came to Christmas. There were white Christmas lights wrapped around every tree and over every angle of the roof. The rose hedges were even decked with colorful red bows and actual crystal icicles that sparked beautifully in the cloudy light. I put a long black overcoat, drew my gloves high upon my wrists, wrapped a simple scarf about my neck and trudged out in the light snow. It didn't take me long to hear the muffled voice coming from the center of the rose garden, the bushes dead now and ice-born. Treize was at the center, wearing only a t-shirt and slacks. I saw that his shoes and socks lay at the entrance of the garden and that he sat on a bench with his bare feet planted in the snow. His hands were in his hair and I could hear quite clearly now that he was weeping. Perhaps he had done something truly bad this time and was being punished. I wanted to leave before he saw me, but I wasn't quick enough. He must have heard the crunch on my boots on the snow and whipped around to see me. His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose tinged rosy from either crying or the cold. I saw him wipe at his eyes and look away. Not much use in leaving now.  
  
"Are you alright?" I asked. Treize turned from me and gestured to something over in the corner of the garden. There I noticed a book and some papers that had been tossed aside. I walked over to the mess and picked up a half dripping piece of paper. It had his name on it, written over and over. I could see much of the attempted signatures were so sloppy that they were illegible. The book on the ground was an Algebra book, a very basic one. I turned to him again, still holding the paper, not quite sure what to say, so I just looked.  
  
"I can't do it" he stated simply and ashamedly. I picked up a few more pages and saw that he hadn't gotten past writing his name on any of them.  
  
"Treize, have you tried any of these?" I asked.  
  
"What does it matter? I can't do it." Such a silly statement, it sounded like something a very young child would say. But I was intrigued and I sensed a kind of irony that this might have once been the man I would marry, and apparently a very important person. I also felt an uncharacteristic sting of sympathy.  
  
"Well, where are you having trouble?"  
  
"I can't focus. My mind wanders as soon as I set my eyes on the page."  
  
"Well naturally you cannot concentrate. You must be freezing." He saw that he was indeed holding himself and shivering in the snow. I went to get his shoes and he watched me. He didn't protest at all when I gave him my scarf and told him to put on his shoes. I thought at the time that if I was kind to him, maybe he wouldn't bother me so much later.  
  
Boy was I wrong.  
  
"Let's go inside and we will sit down and work out these problems." I could do this kind of algebra like the back of my hand. But I stayed away from telling him it was easy for fear it might make him feel stupid.  
  
"If I don't get through it, I won't graduate on time" he stated as he walked back with me.  
  
"From where?"  
  
"From the Academy."  
  
We walked in through a side door and were caught by Lady Arcardia as we neared the main staircase to the second floor. She came scurrying down when she saw the condition of her son, scolding him again for not studying as he was supposed to be. I hastily explained that he was studying but that it was too cold outside for him to concentrate and that I was going to help him. Lady Arcardia kissed me on the head and blessed me several times in Spanish.  
  
"It is too bad your father would not let us have you. You are already taking such good care of my Alejandro." She sighed and swept away like a beautiful specter, saying she would have hot tea brought up to us.  
  
"She doesn't understand. I was outside in the cold to make myself concentrate. I thought if I was cold enough my mind would stay in the here and now." We went upstairs. I stayed in an outer chamber while he dressed and came back to me much more presentable.  
  
"How old are you?" he asked as he sat down next to me at a writing station I had set up in the meantime. "Just fifteen" I answered.  
  
"You are not much younger than me. I just turned seventeen in October." Treize was much more casual and tolerable than on all other occasions, but he was still distracted. I smiled and started to open the book, but he put his hand on it to stop me and looked at me very seriously.  
  
"Do you remember that night?" I knew instantly which night he referred to.  
  
"Most of it. I don't remember how I got from the school to the hotel in Calais. But I remember everything else"  
  
"I think you need to understand what happened that night. It was a child's game you see." He paused and I saw him draw something out of his pocket. It was a bottle from which he drew several pills that he swallowed. Then he asked me to give him several minutes. The tea came and I waited while whatever he had ingested began to take effect. I watched Treize Khushrenada as his mood changed completely. His lids became slightly heavy and his breathing was very calm. He bore an all around serene look that would herald the way he would appear as an adult. We moved to the sofa and sipped our tea. Then he finally spoke.  
  
"I knew Vespertine from long before she met you. I was about your age when her father presented her to mine for a possible family merger. My father politely considered it, but really had no intention of accepting it. He had long ago set his sites on your family for me. Unfortunately for Vesper, I wasn't the gentleman I am now. She was willing, and I was more than willing to accept. So I. how to say this in front of a lady. I took advantage of her, knowing my father would not accept her as my bride, and having no real wish to marry her either. Vesper was proud and her gaze didn't stretch very far. She simply wanted to be a duchess. That's the reason you were raped, Analicia. Because word of my father's attempted alliance with your family spread quickly through Romafellar and Vesper knew she was out of the running for good this time. Besides, she doesn't like foreigners, especially Islemen. She is afraid of them, a lot of people are. After what you did at Lefrey's, I guess they should be."  
  
Somehow the news didn't hit me like a ton of bricks. Finding out the why of things wasn't as meaningful since the actual act had already been committed. It was over and done with as far as I was concerned. But it left me a little curious as to my standing amongst these people.  
  
"Do you fear me?" It was a stupid question. But I felt compelled.  
  
I admire you somewhat for having the concentration to do something like that. She got what she deserved as far as I am concerned. Had things worked out differently, I would have been the one obligated to act for you." He sipped his tea carefully. I scoffed.  
  
"Had things been different, I still would have been the one to act for myself." He smiled and nodded, understanding me a little better. I told him that he didn't need to feel any obligation to me. I didn't like obligation. I didn't like anything that would hold me down to something or someone.  
  
"You will have to get used to it. We are all beholden to someone."  
  
"Not I" I answered. "I will not be chained down to anyone. When I become Eldest Child, no one will control me." Treize raised his cup to me and saluted the idea.  
  
"Well, to freedom then" he toasted and I accepted the cheer, drinking down deep to my dream. We moved onto the math then and he did extraordinarily well. He almost did not need my help at all, and I began to think it was the drug he had taken that had evened him out so well. He was calm and gentle in both voice and movement after that. When I left him, he was a little drowsy, sitting in his chair and looking out into space, dreaming while awake.  
  
I watched him after that and I listened. I knew there was something to do with the pills he had taken. Once I had heard Lady Arcardia relating to a member of her staff in Spanish that Treize was neglecting his medication and that he needed to be monitored to make sure he took it. I cross referenced this with the incidents of his obnoxiousness and could definitely see a pattern building. In the mornings and sometimes late afternoon we would study together and talk. Those were the times were he was calm and well behaved, like a completely different man. He had ideas and introspective thoughts that he shared with me; very intellectual and yet all his thoughts had a captivating spiritual element that strongly attracted me. But he also lacked animation during these times. He was solid like a brick wall that couldn't budge, experiencing neither highs nor lows. As much as I disliked his immature prattling behavior, at least then he resembled a living thing. The Treize that I was growing so steadily fond of seemed neither capable or laughing or crying, only looking forward to the horizon and talking about how best to get there.  
  
His father came home a week before the Christmas party. Jareth Khushrenada had stayed away from his home for the first two weeks of our stay in France. Strangely, during that time, Aria and I did nothing but study in our respective rooms, and did not even have the chance to see one another. We had been told that we were to be introduced into the Romafellar society with the Khushrenadas as our guides, but we had met with no one. The only person I ever saw was Treize and some of his brother, but not much. When their father arrived and asked with much interest about how Treize and I had been getting along, I began to suspect something was afoot.  
  
Jareth Khushrenada was not a large man; he was slim but very refined and elegant, like his sons. Their height must have come from elsewhere in the blood line. However, despite the difference in build, one could certainly see where the facial structure came from. The Duke had extremely fine and sculpted features; his eyebrows were the prototype for his children. They separated and forked at the end. I could tell his hair had once been brown like Treize's hair, but it turned a silver gray, probably prematurely. There were fine lines beneath his eyes, but despite his apparent age he was still handsome. It was lost on me however; I didn't really thick about beauty or react to it.  
  
They were still trying to match me up with Treize. It was becoming more apparent. I spoke with Aria about my suspicions and she thought perhaps that if Merrick could not be compelled to accept the proposal that perhaps Jareth was going for a more direct route. Perhaps that is why Treize had been bothering me. And had Gabriel not covertly mentioned an 'arrangement'? I was certain this was what was going on. We were being kept apart from any Romafellar society in the hopes that I personally might be persuaded to marry Treize. But I didn't feel anything for Treize, though I enjoyed his company when he behaved soberly, I most certainly did not love him. I did not love any one, except perhaps Aria.  
  
But the week before the Christmas tide celebration, there was a commotion in the upper rooms. I remember walking toward the main staircase when I heard the glass shattering down the hall and something heavy hitting the ground. Aria came out of her room not far away and together we ran to where the noise had come. We reached the room in time to see Treize in convulsions on the ground. He was in spasm and gagging. When I knelt down beside him, I found that he was trying to swallow his one tongue.  
  
"Help me turn him over" I said quickly. We heaved the young man onto his stomach and I held his head to the ground while Aria called for help out into the hall. It seemed to take forever before anyone arrived, and meanwhile I strangely found that I did not panic. I was fascinated by what I saw, the convulsions, and the wide-eyed look on his face. It was captivating, what could be causing this? I was enraptured by his condition. By the time several attendants and the Duchess had reached the room, Treize's eyes had become unfocused and his convulsions had slowed. He breathed sharply and relaxed.  
  
"Alejandro!" his perfect mother fawned over him, trying to revive him in vain. He groaned as he began to come around, I on his right, his mother at his left.  
  
"Did you not take your medicine, Alejandro? We told you to keep on your medicine.  
  
"What is the matter with him?" I asked.  
  
"He is an Epileptic. He takes pills for it, but I know he doesn't like to. He neglects it."  
  
"I don't need them." He rasped out as we helped him to sit up. His brow pinched together as if he had a tremendous headache, I suspected he did. We supported him as he slurred about not needing any medicine, that his will was stronger than any medicine.  
  
"I think your present condition suggests otherwise, boy" Jareth said as he entered the doorway, taking Treize out of our hands and heaving him upright. The young man staggered and would have fallen backward has not his father hoisted his arm over his shoulders and carrying him over to the nearest chair. He instructed an attendant to call for the doctor.  
  
"Shall we not take him to a hospital, Mon amour?" The Duchess asked of her husband.  
  
"No doctors" groaned her son.  
  
"I will not take my son anywhere public in this condition. But we most certainly will be increasing his dosage."  
  
"I don't need it" he murmured. I was sitting next to him on his left, still fascinated by the physical malady he had. Perhaps I felt a kinship with him then, he seemed as damaged as I, just in a different way; his was physical while mine was mental. Strange and fascinating. I placed my hand over his as his father yelled, telling him that he would do as he was told. He felt my hand because his finger came up and pressed against the inside of my palm, a gesture no one could see and only he and I could feel.  
  
But the Duchess would no longer allow this episode to take place in front of guests. She ushered my sister and I out of the room, Treize was still dazed in his chair as we left, his father still shouting commands. A doctor arrived soon and under the orders of the Duke of Aquitaine, prescribed amount was increased, and by Thursday of that week, he had been overdosed.  
  
That was how the Treize Khushrenada of latter days came to be. He arose from a death like sleep on Friday, recovering rather quickly from his super drugged state and from there on in, he never seemed to arise completely from his medicate haze. I remember sitting with him and read from the same Anatomy book he had stolen from me. His eyes never fixed on anything, but once in a while he would ask me what I thought about peace.  
  
"I cannot say. Peace is not something I have been taught to believe in, sir."  
  
"Peace. . . yes, difficult. They do not train us for peace. We have higher purposes I think." He murmured. The he would speak at length about higher purposes of Generals and soldiers and war. Every syllable was still laced with the damage to his brain, his tongue now slurred many of his words, but the Doctor had said it wouldn't take long for him to over come it. I was as pleased as punch to have been allowed to watch the doctor work on him. Everything about the curing process was fascinating. And it was still fascinating to look and listen to Treize and to see the effects of his disorder. I was nearly compelled to tell him of my own slowly- encroached sanity.  
  
But now it was his words that enchanted me. It was as if Treize had had an epiphany during his brief coma. The idea behind his speeches sounded much like the ideology with which I had been raised. However, it was still part of my fascination with his malady that kept me so enchanted with his words. I felt that these thoughts and ideas were a manifestation of his disorder. Perhaps being mentally subtracted could prove enlightening.  
  
"I dreamed while I slept. I saw much. I saw beautiful things. Sit by me so I may tell you." I obeyed and sat on the edge of his bed while he closed his eyes and spoke.  
  
"I dreamt there were lines and lines of men making great marches across the land. I dreamt that they met other men and together they danced and killed one another, and it was good. I saw shining metal gleaming in the morning sun, rising above the earth, fading into the darkness of space. I saw all people bowing before the beauty of a soldier and understanding at last what it means to fight and to die. Fighting and dying and living just for that, and loving only for the purpose of war, and it was good. That was the truth and that is the truth. And when it was realized, there was such a peace among everything. I saw beauty captured and eternalized, not fleeting as it is when you look at me sometimes. To live and love, to fight and die, that was the strange pattern of being, and it is good."  
  
"I think you are still unwell." I reached toward the night stand to give him his water. But he put a gentle hand on my shoulder to stay me.  
  
"They are going to make me marry a woman from the colonies if you refuse me. I don't know anything else of her. But by my next birthday I will be engaged to either you or her. I think I would rather it be you, because you take the trouble to listen to me and because you are supposed to be with me." He suddenly did not seem so dazed, but rather very serious, or perhaps it was the seriousness of the situation that made him appear so. In either case, my throat all but closed up in apprehension. Aria had been right. They were trying to push Treize upon me.  
  
"My father will have none of it." I answered evasively.  
  
"But the question is will you have none of it." He countered.  
  
"You said we were meant for greater things, higher purposes." Perhaps his own words would convince him not to go through with this.  
  
"Yes, I did dream of great things for us. We must achieve them together. I dreamed of the future that must be, that I must make. And you must be there making it with me. I do not love you, and this is not a romantic plea. I am telling you what must be for the future. I know what must be done and only I can do it. And you must be there because it must be so."  
  
Far too many 'must be's' for my liking, but I did not want to bark at an ailing man.  
  
"Treize, you are only a young man. The path may seem clear but it is not always so. Try not to put much stock in dreams. It will only-"  
  
"It was more than a dream, Lady, it was Providence."  
  
"We have separate paths, Treize. I have duties to my family and I must obey them before all. I will be Eldest Child and no one may alter that. I am sorry." I tried to sound apologetic as if I was breaking his heart, even though I knew I was not. But Treize seemed less than deterred. He leaned his head back against the pillow and smiled almost euphorically.  
  
"I will be your family. You will have no other before me."  
  
Now I was getting angry. No man told me what my destiny was (unless he was my father). Had I not told him before I never wished to be under the rule of another? Did he not realize how insulting it was to order me around? I would not be caged by him or anyone. No man controlled me.  
  
"You are still ill, Mr. Khushrenada."  
  
"No, Your Excellency. That is how I will be addressed. I will insist upon it when I have the power, so you should become accustomed to it now. And I don't like your name either. Analicia is so stilted and rigid on my tongue, and I don't like Leecy either; far too childish. You need something regal, my Lady. I think I will call you . . ." here he stopped for a moment to consider. "I will call you Anne. It is related enough to your first name to be acceptable. Anne, the name of Queens. It will come to suit you, in time." He finished off his point by firmly taking my hand and raising it to his mouth. It was not a sweet gesture but a forceful one because he held my hand so tightly that there was no way I could have pulled away until he wished it. It was a gesture of command and of subjugation. But instead of feeling outrage at his supposition of the future, I felt a twisting knot of dread unfurl in my stomach as if a part of me believed what he said would be true. I wanted to bolt but my spirit was already adhered to his side. He was so different, a specter of the young boy who I had met only weeks ago. Treize now seemed nothing like a boy, but more of a much older man, sagely and prophetic, or simply mad. Had he had some supernatural vision that so transformed his mind? I was more inclined to believe his senses had been swept clean by the overdose of the Epilepsy drug.  
  
"Do you know, but I find you pretty when you are scared." It was a terrible thing to say and it made my dread increase. But I had to speak and cling to the hope that his mind was not made up on this and that this was just brain damage talking.  
  
"You are not well, and you are scaring me" His eyes darkened slightly and his gaze turned predatory.  
  
"You are not afraid of me, you are afraid of yourself."  
  
That was it! I snatched back my hand as soon as he loosened his grip and stood up defensively from his bed. Immediately I began barraging him with my own commentary on his "vision". I detested the insinuation that I feared myself. How the hell would he know one way or another? We barely knew each other. I gave him an ear full of my disdain and after a few seconds he held up his hand and made the talking sign to indicate it was all blah blah blah to him.  
  
"Oh I see you haven't changed at all. Still the arrogant ass you have always been. Only now you are fucked in the head. I guess this is just the icing on the cake. At least now you will have an excuse when people ask 'what the hell is wrong with that man.'" I stood to leave, but he was quicker, deceivingly so. Who would have thought a person only a day out of a coma could move that fast. He stopped me before I could leave the room by grabbing my wrist and twisting it hard.  
  
"You are going to have to learn how to speak to me." He emphasized his point by increasing the pressure on him wrist and it hurt, a lot. But I had been well trained by my Sensei. Without really thinking, my free hand shot forward and pinched his neck, my fingers digging into his artery. It was a move that when done correctly would freeze a person for a few moments, staunching the blood to the brain. Supposedly if you were strong enough, you could kill a man this way. So Treize and I stood in the doorway, he holding my wrist painfully hard and I controlling the blood that quenched his brain. It didn't immobilizing him but he couldn't put any more pressure on me or move enough to stop me.  
  
"I guess this is war." He whispered. I glared at him.  
  
"Seems that way." We stood at a stalemate for another few seconds and finally he let go of my wrist. In turn I released my hold on his neck.  
  
"See you on the field" he spoke as I opened the door and left him standing there.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I could have told you he was a nut bag. But you never asked." Aria swung her feet over the side of her bed. I sat behind her, brushing and braiding her hair. "I hate it here. I want to be back in Dover with my target practice. We were just moving up to rifles when Father sent me to that school. And this family is so pretentious. Do they really think we are too stupid to notice that they haven't taken us anywhere in the three weeks since we arrived. And now you hate Treize so what the hell is the point of us even being here. Ouch, careful!" I snagged a particularly tough knot. Aria's hair was very thick and it loved to tangle.  
  
"I don't hate him, Aria. I'm just not going to lie down for him or his family. Never thought I would say this, but I'd rather to go home." Aria turned and met my eyes.  
  
"Don't say that. Don't wish to run home with your tail between your legs. You have to fight him on this. Remember, he is only this way because he thinks he needs you. You have all the power in this situation. So get back at him. When that Christmas party starts, I say you ignore him, flirt with other men Show interest in anything but Treize Khushrenada."  
  
It was an excellent plan, but there was a hard catch. Treize words, his hazy little speeches kept coming back. He was a man who had the will and the audacity to command me and something about that caught my attention. I was interested in Treize Khushrenada, and that was the difficulty. But it was a small interest, one that threatened to grow. Aria was right, I should avoid him, for that reason alone I should have nothing to do with him. I told Aria I would do just as she advised knowing even then that I wouldn't be able to.  
  
"Father will be here in a few days" she added. It killed the conversation.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
I found Treize the next day, not long after the breakfast from which he was conspicuously absent, in the formal living room. He was sitting immobile in a rigid-backed chair, staring into space, and he looked as if he had been there for some time. For a moment I forgot about the war we had declared on each other the day before and thought on what the doctor had said of him. His brain had been damaged, not severely so, but enough that he would be permanently effected. Here before me was the result, an almost catatonic state. Would Mentescadere so this to me?  
  
"Can't keep yourself away, can you?" he spoke. I had been staring at him and he had been quite conscious the entire time. I was irritated but too interested in his state to really get into it with him. I took the seat opposite him and leaned forward, like an examining doctor.  
  
"Do you feel much different? What is it like?" Treize leaned forward to answer me so that we were only a foot apart.  
  
"Like being reborn." He was going to say something else, but a beeping noise went off inside his jacket. It was his telecom device and he put up an excusing hand to me as he answered the call. "Bonjour? Ah! Comment allez vous, mon ami?" he broke to laugh a little at what the muffled voice answered back. "Alright, I'll speak International, but only because I like you. How are you, Zechs? Is the Academy treating you well?" More muffled answers. "You will be at my party, will you not? We have much to discuss and mother would be devastated if her favorite foundling were not present. What's that? . . . Oh, beautiful, absolutely beautiful. You can meet her this week when you arrive . . . Very well, I will see you then. Soyez bien" he clicked the device off and engaged me once again.  
  
"Now, where were we? Would you prefer Asia, or the Riviera?"  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For our honeymoon of course. I would prefer some place warm, myself, but I will leave the final decision up to you, of course." He flashed a smile at me as if we were having a pleasant conversation. I just looked at him the way people look at a mime. Then, knowing I had asked for it, I tossed up my hands and got up from my place, ready to leave.  
  
"You are never going to give it up, are you?" I said walking out. But he laughed and called out behind me.  
  
"I most certainly will give it up, the question is will you. I don't want a cold wife who forsakes my bed." It took me a few beats to figure out what he meant, but then I caught on, another tasteless remark. "I'm not really worried since you were schooled at Madame Lefrey's. I am sure you will know exactly what to do." God, but he had a mean spirit in him. He also knew just how to goad me into fighting with him.  
  
"How do you know I won't set your bed on fire while you sleep?" I flicked my eyebrow at him in challenge. A slow and sultry smile crawled across his face.  
  
"I have great hope of you setting my bed on fire every night. But if you mean literally and not sexually, then no, I am not worried. Once I have you there will be no danger of you getting away like that."  
  
"And what happens if I find someone else? What if there is another man whose bed I prefer to set afire?" Let him choke on that possibility.  
  
"There will be no one else. I'll kill any man you so much as smile at." I scoffed at him, he was bluffing, even though the look in his eye was serious. This boy wasn't capable of killing anything.  
  
"Don't mistake me, my Lady Anne. You and I have an inseparable destiny and I will not tolerate insubordination toward that destiny. Laugh and scoff all you want now, but mark my words, you will come to serve me and the future that must be" He stood and I felt how tall he was. I still had some growing to do, but Treize, like Zechs, would always tower over me.  
  
"This is a battle you can't win, Treize"  
  
"I'll win it, even if I have to tear down your house and all your family. I most assuredly will win."  
  
This time, he was the one to walk out, leaving me behind with my anger. The knotted dread in my stomach spread and churned, along with something even more frightening that I couldn't yet name.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"This is it" Sudara Okami breathed to herself as the small car approached the house. It was larger than she expected, but just as imposing as she imagined. In the milky light of a cloudy sky, it sat almost romantically a few hundred yards from the cliffs edge, far enough away to assure safety from any storm surge but close enough to give it an edge. The wind blew high and hard at this house, coming from off the churning sea below. She imagined that the sea was never calm at this place, crashing at the white cliffs and rocks below. It reminded her of a famous English novel she had once read, Wuthering.something. She couldn't remember the title exactly, but this house looked like the perfect setting for such a story, old, and strained, holding out against the torrid air of the sea. She wondered if the passions inside the house matched the might of the wind blowing at its sills.  
  
Okami pulled her rental car up to the gate and spent a full minute examining the iron letter welded there, D, for Delizabane. Not quite an English name, she couldn't place the exact origin. But this was where they lived nonetheless, and where she was sure she would find that man. He had always appeared to her on the heels of disaster, first in the act of murdering Lady Une, the next was random, but six months following the Parisian rebellion had taken place. He was a harbinger of woe and some how this family was connected with him. Okami had no doubt now that he was an agent of the Lady of Dover. Who else would want the Chief Preventer dead? The Preventers were standing in direct opposition to this hostile family. She had heard Quatre saying it to his friends many times. Well, if this is where she would find that young man, then this is where she needed to be. Tentatively, she pressed the button on the com box and asked for admittance.  
  
"The Lady sees no one. Please leave" the guard's voice echoed through the little box. She hadn't really expected to get in, but she was prepared to do what was necessary. She pressed the button again.  
  
"I have urgent news for her, of the Preventers and . . . of Lady Une." This time the guard took his time then asked for her name, which she gave truthfully. After a few more moments, she was again denied access. Frustrated, Okami got back into the little car and pulled down the road. If they wanted to play hard ball, she could accommodate them. After pulling some distance away, Okami hid the car as best she could off the road, then worked her way through a semi-sparse thicket, edging her way toward the property. It didn't take long before she heard the waves crashing on the cliff and reached a perimeter fence. It was electrified and this would prove a problem. For another ten minutes she explored the perimeter until she found an opportunity. A large tree was craned just enough so that a good jump off one of the higher branches might get her over to the other side. Recalling how good she had been at this as a child, Okami took to climbing the tree. The bark dug and came loose under her fingernails as she searched for foot holds. It wasn't easy and she was sweating by the time she reached a good height, but she had made it. Looking down, however, worried her more than anything else; it would be a long jump/fall to the ground on the other side. There was a strong possibility that she wouldn't pull it off without breaking something. Her apprehension caught in her throat and Okami wondered briefly what she was doing there. Then she remembered her purpose. She was there for revenge and for her honor. That man had twice dishonored her and it was time for his comeuppance. She might not be an assassin or a soldier, but Okami had pride enough for any fight and she had a brain too, a good one. She was sure she could get what she wanted. Quatre wouldn't understand now, but when or if she returned to him, he would eventually come to accept this. This had to be done.  
  
Reaching in her pocket, she made sure her gun and the small communication device within were secure and took a deep breath. Bending down, she got as much height as she could when she sprung forth from the tree limb and landed on the ground only inches away from the fence. Her adrenaline coursed through her and she was able to land in a roll and stopped herself before she fell back against the fence. Her eyes widened at how close she had come to being electrified and she stood still for a moment staring at the metal that coursed with hidden energy, as a person stares at a snake ready to strike. Regaining herself, Okami got up and moved on.  
  
But she had not come away as unscathed as she would have liked. Her ankle buckled and she fell forward on her knees. Nearby there were some bushes and she quickly crawled behind them to cover herself while she examined the ankle. A solid sprain, she had had them before and knew what it felt like. But at least it wasn't broken. Hell, she might have broken her leg or even her neck in that jump. A sprained ankle was livable; she would have to be extra careful and hope that she wasn't caught in a situation where she needed to run.  
  
Without running available, she hobbled. After taking a good look at where she was, she saw that her best bet was a garden opening some yards away to the left. There appeared to be no one around and no one at the windows. When her courage built up again, she hobbled into the cover of the garden. There were hedges and trees that would shield her from sight. Once again hidden behind an outcropping of bushes, she peered into the garden. It was secluded and rather large. No one was around. Keeping to the foliage, Okami made her away around, noticing a path that lead to an atrium terrace. There were French doors leading into what was probably a grand room. Perhaps it would make for a good entrance. No guards could be found. Okami crept up as best she could to the doors, keeping to the wall in a way that might keep her hidden from those inside. It was getting difficult to breath softly with all these quick movements. Okami waited several minutes for her heart to beat slower and her breath to come easier. Then she leaned forward and looked through the panes of the French doors.  
  
Then her breath completely caught. It was a bedroom and an opulent one at that. There was a large bed directly in front of her view, and various medical instruments surrounding the bed. She saw the room's sole occupant very clearly, and was transfixed. Lady Une was lying there amongst the white covers, seemingly asleep. Without really planning her move, Okami reached for the handle of the doors and tried to open them. But they would not budge. Locked? No, she could see through the window panes, the lock had been destroyed. So Okami went with the next impulse that came to mind; she tried to awaken Lady Une. A few quiet knocks on the glass served no purpose, Anne did not stir and Okami, again noting such things as an IV stand, wondered if perhaps she could not wake up. If that was the case, then she would be no help in opening these doors. Had the lock not been destroyed, she might have been able to risk breaking a pane of glass. Now what would she do? Still watching Anne's death like sleep, Okami pondered her situation.  
  
But the man standing behind her decided things for her when he seized her head and knocked it hard enough against the door frame to render her senseless. She collapsed in a heap and he picked her up in a fireman's carry.  
  
It was several hours before she awoke in the corner of a dimly lit room. The throbbing in her head hit Okami the second she reached a conscious state and she involuntarily whimpered, grabbing the side of her head. The floor was hard wood under her body and the wall she was facing was of the same stuff. She listened for a few moments, but all she could hear was the wind hitting the outer wall of the house and knew she had been caught. Okami recalled the last things she had seen, Anne sleeping in that bed and a terrible pain in her head.  
  
Okami put her hands on the floor and pushed herself up. The pain in her head made her dizzy and she fell back against the corner of the room in a sitting position. It would be tough to gain her feet. At least from here she could make out her surroundings. There was only one light, and it was an oil lamp, lit at the other end of this small room. A simply made twin size bed, a few odds and ends, a chair, a small desk, a dresser and side table, and a huge gun rack coupled with a glass fronted cabinet were the objects that filled these quarters. The chair on the far end was not empty either, and in the dim light Okami saw that instead of finding her target, her target had found her. It was him, and he was staring at her.  
  
"Again, we are both awake." He muttered. Okami instinctually reached down into her pocket for the gun she had brought, not realizing the obvious until her hand found nothing but the very small communicator that was deeper down in the folds of her jacket. The gun was gone, but it hadn't gone far; he had it in his hands. "A poor model, not efficient, not silent enough." He held the gun in front of the oil lamp for inspection. Okami's stomach knotted.  
  
"Who were you planning to use this on?"  
  
Okami couldn't speak, indeed she could barely think. All she could concentrate on was that he was wearing all black, just like last time. The man got up and started walking to her. He was pulling back and releasing the hammer on the gun and Okami's throat swelled with fear. But there was a sound of static that stopped him and he turned to the wall, hair hanging down in his eyes.  
  
"Mikhail, come to my office. We will be having a visitor." It was a woman's voice.  
  
So his name was Mikhail, a name to go along with the nightmare. Mikhail sighed in frustration and turned back. He put the gun inside his jacket as he turned the oil lamp off. The room was soon pitch-black, and she could hear him moving again. Then she saw the tiny light coming from under the door. It opened and he stood on the threshold.  
  
"Don't go anywhere." He whispered and shut the door, locking it from the outside. The pain in her head was ebbing, but she could still feel tears rising behind her eyes. What would she do now?  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Christmas day seemed to race toward me and suddenly, I experienced that most celebrated of Christian holidays with the vigor of a Roman Catholic family who had a tradition of lavish festivity. It was a cacophony of lights, sugar and finery, a great spectacle for the eye and nose. As much as I tried to concentrate on my ongoing battle with young Treize Khushrenada, the distraction and mystery of Christmas was ever present. The eve was my favorite part of it. It was a wonderful night full of anticipation for a miracle that happened so long ago. I didn't believe in the religious aspects of it all, but it was fun to partake in this festival of Christ nonetheless.  
  
The Khushrenadas were a somewhat devote family with their own personal chapel on the Manoir estate. Aria was not as open-minded as I about the whole event but she still joined me when the family invited us to the Christmas service. The Duchess was sensitive to our Atheism and I think she believed that just the right setting and words would convince us of Christ's passion. The Evening Mass was a great to-do with candles and singing and an enormous amount of ceremony that, though I found it silly, was charming as well. I sat next to the Duchess, since seating was by rank, and Aria endured the companionship of Treize and Gabriel behind me. I was in full swing with Aria's plan for ignoring Treize and did not spare him a glance the entire evening.  
  
Christmas morning was anti-climatic. Presents are all well and good but it all didn't seem to fit in with the Mass of the previous night. But it really didn't matter since the real treat would begin that evening with the Christmas celebration. The families of Romafellar were to all be there, as this was the only place to be on Christmas. The Duke's parties were supposedly the highlight of any season. I was looking forward to learning the names and faces of the men and Generals I would be working with once Merrick turned over the family to my care. It was clear from listening to both Treize and Jareth that Romafellar society was a society that revered the military. If one wished to be successful, he did not go into business or politics, but into the army. It was the only way a person really advanced themselves, and the only respectable position for a nobleman. Though a person could excel in business and politics, they would never be recognized as quality until they had acquired a respectable military rank.  
  
I dressed in red that night, in one of my favored dresses that fit well and made me look older and more sophisticated. It was flattering enough to be feminine but still gave me an air of respectability befitting my position. Aria approved, she wore a dark green velvet gown that flattered her hair and complexion. We both used all that we had learned of the art of beauty from Lefrey's to make ourselves look presentable to the crowd we would meet. I also prepared myself to look into the eyes of my contemporaries who would know that I had set that school on fire and killed some of their own. But I would be safe, holding fast to the knowledge that none of them could touch me. My father would be there too and he would prevent any such outrage.  
  
My father would be there too . . . My heart sank.  
  
"You look beautiful" my sister smiled and complimented me. I knew that she was not just flattering, but still I gave a skeptical huff and she reiterated. "No, I mean it, you are stunning." I hugged her and when the clock struck seven, we went down stairs.  
  
The Duchess was greeting guests, hundred of them had already arrived early and the halls and rooms were filling with nobility. There was much going on outside as well, a great area had been cleared off for dancing, with heaters poised strategically and almost invisibly all about so that the temperature on the floor was balanced and comfortable. It was a beautiful effect, the snow surrounding the floor, marking its borders and the placement of heaters and fans created a layer of mist that clung to the ground so that the guests would be dancing in clouds. But the floor was not wet or slippery. Ice sculptures adorned the area and lights shining and sparkling from the snow and ice made it the most beautiful of scenes. I knew I would be spending much time out there.  
  
Lady Arcardia sprang on us as soon as she saw us come down from the upstairs and hurriedly began showing off the Isle Countess she had as her guest. I saw the expression that people couldn't hide when they were introduced to me. It was fascinating, a mixture of fear and awe; as if I was part of a fantastic legend they had never dared to believe in. I held myself very proudly and unashamedly, thinking that Bram would be proud of this kind of performance.  
  
I wondered if my father had arrived yet and suspected that he might have. Mr. Khushrenada nor his sons were in the immediate area. The Duchess finally relinquished us and I was allowed to mingle with the guests. It was difficult to get anywhere since people stopped to pay their shivering respects every few feet. I really didn't want to speak with any of them too much, just enough to learn names to file away for later use. Mostly I was in search of Merrick or Bram perhaps. I couldn't find any of them and when I turned around after a time I found that I had lost Aria in the crowd.  
  
I made my way to the misty outside ballroom where the younger crowd was already making use of the place. A live orchestra played for them and apparently the Waltz was still very much in fashion among the aristocracy. I had no wish to dance, never having liked it much. Instead, I moved about and took advantage of my invisibility among the younger faces. If there were any Lefrey girls, they probably wouldn't have recognized me.  
  
However, it didn't take long for the young men to notice me and one by one they made their way over to me to make overtures and invitations. How I wish Treize had been there so that could have choked on the sight. I liked the idea of making him jealous and getting a rise out of him. It was interesting to have that power over him. I didn't pay attention to most of their names. There were the Weyridge brothers, a Baron's son, and several young Viscounts, all of them held good rank in the Alliance Special Forces, most of them were training in Mobile Suit combat. I was able to evade their request for my own name in order to get as much information as possible. Finally, I could no longer be evasively rude and gave them my full name and title.  
  
Three of them backed off right away. I imagined at the time that my violent reputation preceded me, but I was mistaken. I heard one of them mutter as he made his excuses and left my company "It figures that she is the one Treize wants us to stay away from." This bit agitated me. So he thought to warn everyone against me ahead of time. Well, I didn't answer to Treize and I didn't think they did either. I took the arm of one of the retreating Viscounts, much to his sudden apprehension, and made to walk with him as if he was my favored one, declaring in a loud but pleasant voice "Mr. Khushrenada is too kind to single me out in such a way, but I must say he does not control my movements, or yours, right my dear Viscount?" I attempted to be charming and winning, and felt I succeeded rather well. The young man stammered and nodded.  
  
"Excellent, then I would be pleased with a dance. You wouldn't refuse the Countess of Mortain such a simple thing, would you?" I exerted my social authority as an added incentive for him to agree; all the while I looked about me, wondering from where the bastard Khushrenada was watching me. My favored one agreed and we danced a set perfectly, although I could see he was nervous. Was Treize so much to be feared?  
  
Others seemed to take a cue from my young man and, though I still did not like dancing, I danced with every young man who offered, and several older ones who were intrigued by my nationality. This was tedious at times, but I was refreshed by the act of turning the tables on Treize, who still had not appeared. I finally saw Aria, who was on the borders, surrounded by both young men and women asking about the Isle and such. She looked miserable, but I had not time to rescue her. Later, the Baron Venduven was getting me a drink as I smiled pleasantly at him. I was actually half enjoying myself, but it was important to look as if I was on cloud nine, because my enemy might be looking on, hopefully, in rage. While I waited for the Baron to return, I saw someone across the floor that caught my attention. It was a very tall boy standing on the sidelines and looking bored. His eyes were focused on the ground and I couldn't make out many of his features save for his platinum blond hair, but I could sense, even through the distance between us, that he was sad. When he picked up his face and looked out onto the floor, I marked him, even as his eyes went through me and through everyone else, seeing all and nothing.  
  
I think it is important to note that I did not mark Treize at all the first time I saw him, or even the second time. However, when I first looked upon Zechs Merquise, I most certainly took notice. Who could not help but notice the handsome youth with hair that could almost match the snow he stood beside? He did not yet feel it necessary to bear the mask he would in later years. His jacket was as red as my gown. He had come in the Special's uniform and I wanted immediately to know who he was. I found myself drawn to his sad air, wondering what made him so melancholy. But the Baron returned with my drink, and when I looked back, the young man was gone and I couldn't find him again.  
  
Eventually, I was overheated from dancing and laughing with all my attentive gentlemen. I needed to calm down; the game was over for now. My father would be here and I needed to be presentable when I met him. So with many polite excuses, I made my escape from the ballroom and went to the rose garden. My head was full of funny vengeful things to say to Treize if I saw him that evening, but I was fazing them out in order to concentrate for my encounter with Merrick. I was sure he would be there by now. The Christmas air was cold and it worked perfectly to cool my spirits down. I looked up as I paced around the hedges to find the center of the garden. The stars shown bright above me in a clear sky and I was reminded of how the stars and wind had been my only confidants at the terrible school. My lips curved in a natural smile. My life was so much better now. I was close to happy.  
  
Then I turned the corner and walked right into him, slamming into his sturdy chest, which was blue clad. He was wearing his military uniform, like all the others, but his was more decorative than the rest. The light from the crescent moon above us was enough for me to see just how perturbed he was. Treize's mouth was a tight line and he stood very rigid. For the first time I began to consider the possibility that there might be actual consequences to crossing him. I didn't conclude anything fast enough; or back far enough away, the alarms in my head didn't go off in time to escape. Without a word, he grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me to the ground. I landed hard on my side but I wasn't there long before he grabbed me by the neck and slammed my head into the stone bench, the very same one where I had found him weeping weeks before. My defensive training failed me in those moments, because I had never once considered Treize to be this kind of enemy. Our war wasn't supposed to be physical. Obviously he had upped the ante. My head landed against the hard cold stone and I felt the sharpest pain shuddering down my neck and up into my crown. But I made no noise. That kind of pain shuts you up before you can cry out. All I heard was Treize growl something to the effect of "You did this to yourself" and then his boots on the snow as he walked out. After that, I only recall looking back up to the stars that had witnessed the whole incident.  
  
Suddenly, I was cold.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The morning sun reflected off of Tallgeese's cockpit and blinded Wufei for a moment. He had disembarked from his own suit minutes ago, as had the rest of the squadron, but Zechs was taking his time. He kept revving his engines and listening as they died down. Wufei was familiar with this method of testing the output after flight, but Zechs always had to spend extra time. Wufei could hear the pitch as the engines squealed to a shut down. If it were Nataku, she would have to be recalibrated. But Tallgeese was Zechs' territory, and a man shouldn't interfere with another man's suit. If Tallgeese needed some extra mechanical attention, it was Zechs' business.  
  
At length Zechs came out, the wind whipped at the loose parts of his Preventer uniform and his hair was wisely tied back. Wufei saw that his brow was puckered in dissatisfaction and he knew Tallgeese would be taken to the line for maintenance. Hildre was not far away, disentangling herself from her own suit. The girl was ambitious, but she still had plenty to learn about Mobile Suit piloting. It was a miracle Zechs tolerated her. Wufei did not like bothersome amateurs attempting to be absurdly brave in times of war. He felt she would more likely screw things up at a critical moment than save the day like she hoped to.  
  
"Damn thrust is off" Zechs cursed as he walked by him. Wufei had to suppress a groan. Zechs whined and pined too much for his taste. "Where is Trowa? He was supposed to report to me about that Dr. that was captured in Boston. And where is that report on the EMP configuration? Christ do I have to do everything myself?" He was walking fast now and Wufei suddenly disliked how tall the man was.  
  
"Did you always bitch this much when you were in OZ?" Wufei muttered.  
  
"What was that Preventer Earth? Being snippy to your commander?" Zechs slowed down his pace.  
  
"My commander is imprisoned in Dover. You are just someone I am putting up with until we can regain her."  
  
"Humph."  
  
"To answer your questions, Trowa is interviewing Alendro back at the headquarters, in the detention center. He found that he had no taste working on the EMP configurations with Luscian Tenné, as most of us don't. So Sally stepped in and is working on the Configuration plan. But last she told me things did not look hopeful. No configuration seems to work against the Calypso's cloaking ability." He let Zechs chew on that report before he suggested that they go to the interrogation. Zechs distractedly concurred and within a half hour, they were back at Headquarters. Zechs checked his watch and made calls back to his estate home, questioning the staff on the health of the infant that Lady Une had been forced to leave behind there. He had a fever of some kind and now Zechs' daughter was sick too. This prompted the most irritating of reactions from Preventer Wind. Zechs was in full parental mode and Sally had been ready to throw him out of Preventer Headquarters when, at every opportunity, he started wiping down every surface with anti-bacterial spray, saying he didn't want to take any germs home to his kids.  
  
"Zechs, spray that one more time and I will relieve you of duty on the grounds of obsessive compulsive behavior! My coffee now tastes like lemon scented Cleans-It and I don't want disinfectant in my lunch!" she had yelled at him when she saw the yellow bottle in his hands. Zechs had wisely desisted.  
  
Zechs snapped his communicator away, irritably. Apparently the baby was not any better than he had been thirty minutes ago. "You should send the boy to Italy"  
"There is no chance that I am sending him down to Dorothy. I don't want any of my kids near a Catalonia." Clearly, Zechs had conveniently forgotten the facts of Treize Alexander's parentage and that he had no part in it. But Wufei couldn't say he cared much either way, so he let sleeping dogs lie. They reached the detention center and could see Trowa on the inside with a very nervous old man.  
  
Alendro was by all proper terms, spilling his guts. It was impossible to know what Trowa had said to get the man to break like a waterfall. He had his own methods. But there, in any case, Alendro sat in a sparse interrogation room that was a throw back to twentieth century western police stations, complete with the two-way mirrors. He was shaking and sweating, perhaps close to tears when Zechs opened the door, rolling up his sleeves in reaction to the heat of the room.  
  
"I only went to Boston for the drug, nothing more. I am no spy" he was blubbering covering his face with his hands. Trowa reported that he had been saying this for over forty minutes and it was entirely possible that his involvement with the house of Delizabane was only in a medical capacity. Wufei watched Zechs from the cooler side of the mirror and could see that Zechs was eager to sink his claws into Alendro. He had confided to Sally and Wufei that he had had an intuition about the man since the day he arrived on Anne's doorstep. Wufei had also learned that he and Anne had experienced something of a Lover's spat the morning Alendro arrived. He was inclined to think that might be part of the reason Zechs wasn't fond of the old doctor. Zechs didn't like people or things that distracted him from his targets.  
  
"So, Mr. Felius. Who sent you to Boston" Zechs turned a chair and sat down in it backwards, bracing his arms on the back, eyeing the prisoner.  
  
"I already told him why" Alendro pointed to Trowa who told the doctor to tell it all again.  
  
"I was sent to Boston by Lady Aria. She gave me the name of a specialist she had been in regular communication with. He is a neurologist who is working on treatments for Mentescadere. I was sent to get the treatment drug for the Countess. She suffers greatly now from the disorder. But I was only sent for that, no other reason. I have committed no crime. All this business was conducted legally." The man wrung his hands at Zechs in a pleading fashion. Zechs put up a calming hand. "Tell me about this. Mente-.Mentes. whatever. And why Aria needs treatment for it so badly."  
  
"She needs it for the Countess."  
  
"Yes, but why does the Aria need it? She is the Countess." He tried to be as emphatic as he could. Alendro shook his head and his hands.  
  
"No no no, The Countess is Lady Analicia. She suffers much from the disorder now. The whole family suffers from it, but she needs the treatment far more than the rest right now. They only make the drug in America. It is where the disease started. The dominant gene carrying the disorder comes from her American bloodline.. I was only there to get the treatment so that Lady Analicia might wake up."  
  
Zechs listened very carefully. Wufei saw that he never blinked and hardly moved while Alendro answered questions about what the disease entailed; the symptoms, the effects, the treatment, the history, and the current condition of Lady Une. How the Delizabane used to be an American resettlement family and lived on the Eastern Coast several hundred years ago. How radiation from the Third Great War's nuclear strike had poisoned the environment, and ultimately the families who resettled there. Two hundred years had only done so much to clean the ecosystem. It was only a half-livable place when the family resettled there. They all became sick with Cancers and Mentescadere and what remained of the line fled to the Isle where the disease still ravaged the family. He described the diseases affect on Lady Une, beginning with early manifestations in her childhood, taking more serious forms during her service in OZ, its seemingly dormant stage after the Eve Wars, an its recent vengeful resurgence that had now reduced her to an almost comatose state. After another thirty minutes, Zechs didn't want to hear anymore and they stopped the interrogation. Trowa and Zechs, sweaty and tired, came out of the room and went right to the coffee.  
  
"That's it." Trowa said, taking it black and sipping carefully. "That's what they're waiting for." Zechs nodded, stirring crème into his cup and taking a sip. Then he grimaced "This does taste like disinfectant!"  
  
"So she is catatonic?" Wufei inquired, trying to clear up what he had heard from the interrogation room.  
  
"Something like that. But at least we know what they are stalling for." Trowa answered. Zechs stuffed a cracker in his mouth and drank again.  
  
"They are waiting for her to wake up, which works out well for us. When we have something prepared for attacking the Calypsos, then we can send Alendro on his way with the treatment. If we can control when Lady Une wakes up, we can control when Aria makes her move. All we have to do is figure out what part Lady Une will be made to play." Wufei summarized. "We have a window to strike. If we can get a working weapon against those cloaked suits, then we can strike them before they strike us. We must attack there complex in Dover."  
  
"That place is tighter than the Presidential building during the Eve War. It will take more than a simple attack. We need someone on the inside." Trowa added.  
  
"The Commander is on the inside"  
  
"She won't do us any good if she is incapacitated. Lady Une is too much of a variable, and we must assume Relena and Mariemaia are prisoners the same as she. We need someone else on the inside" Trowa folded his arms.  
  
Zechs strummed his fingers along the countertop, thinking deeply and reported that they already had someone on the inside. But he wouldn't say anymore than that. Finally, Zechs put down his coffee and went back into Commander Mode.  
  
"Get everyone working on an offensive strategy. I want a viable attack plan on my desk by tomorrow. I don't care if you have to sacrifice sleep or if you have to endure Tenné the whole time. This may be the only chance we have to get them, make it count." He waved them off and the two of them reluctantly dispersed.  
  
How long could they hold off? How long would it take to crack the mystery of that damned Calypso cloaking system? What if Anne woke up on her own before they were ready? What if Gabriel already knew exactly what moves the Preventers would make?  
  
Too many questions for the moment that Zechs had not yet have the answers for.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Gabriel was mechanical when he fucked Kateline. The job was tedious but necessary, and so he performed his duty with efficiency and coldness, it saved time and spared the bullshit. And it didn't seem that Kateline cared for his affection so long as she was satisfied. This was the best possible standard for their relationship. He would give her what she wanted. She would keep her mouth shut and her claws out of things that concerned him. It was the perfect way to placate Kateline's darker needs and it didn't require anything emotional from Gabriel. All in all it was a very easy arrangement.  
  
But right now it was a nuisance. Kateline had demanded attentions from him this evening and argued that his services were not needed in any other area of the house other than in her bed. But Gabriel was distracted. He had had Foresight of an intruder earlier that day and had reported to Lady Aria about an impending visitor. It was no surprise when the young woman, Sudara Okami had been found on the property. Mikhail had dealt with it and everyone seemed satisfied with the removal of free variables roaming around the premises. But Gabriel's inner eye was still open, sweeping the perimeter, unsatisfied with the day's results. There would be another intruder. He could feel the warning grazing his spine whenever he closed his eye. Gabriel had spent all afternoon in the cockpit of Epyon II, talking with Zero, training his mind to See. All he was left with after a long conversation was the system was the lingering alert of approaching danger.  
  
He needed to concentrate on that danger, but Zero was not aiding him. Now, Kateline was distracting him with her hungers. Gabriel had finally given into her demands and topped her twice in the hopes of shutting her up for a while. Lady Aria had put Mikhail on alert for another trespasser earlier in the afternoon, so he didn't really need to be worrying about anything. But that didn't mean he wouldn't worry.  
  
Kateline rubbed her hand down his bare chest purposefully and he groaned at her, having no desire for round three. "I need a drink". Not wanting to spend any more time tonight driving the woman through the mattress, he rose from the bed, naked, and went to the small bar Kateline kept. It was packed with a variety of hard liquors, which pleased him. He took Vodka with no ice and dispatched it straight. Kateline sat up with the sheets wrapped around her sweat-laden body, tapping her fingers on her lap. Gabriel mixed a drink and brought it over to his lover, his mind was on anything but her.  
  
"Looking for something?" she breathed, taking the drink from him. Gabriel ignored her. His senses were scanning the house, waiting for some disturbance to trigger the blood and the vision that would give him answers.  
  
"Don't feel like talking? I thought we might talk about your childhood . . . maybe your time in space." Kateline's finger stirred the drink in her grasp. Damn bitch, she must have been feeling gutsy and mean tonight. Kateline knew very well that he didn't remember much of anything prior to being taken by the family. For all the powers of the Zero system, it hadn't been able to restore his knowledge of the past. Sometimes it gifted him with visions of the past, but usually other people's past, his brother's, Lady Aria's, but never his own. So he had learned to look forward and not back. Visions of the future were more numerous than any other, though more cryptic. But he was sure of a few things, Zechs would be coming soon, and then Anne was going to die. He saw it a number of times. He would be standing on the lawn with Zechs, both of them looking up at the window where Anne stood watching them. And then there would be a popping sound and her chest would explode onto the glass of the window pane, shot from behind at close range. Neither of them would be able to stop it. It was what would be.  
  
Gabriel moved to put on his clothes, which clearly displeased his mistress. She started again to bait him with his lack of memory, telling him bits and pieces of his past. "Of course, you can't know if anything I say is true, after all. Your memories are behind a locked door, aren't they? It must be so sad to have to rely on other people to tell you who and what you are. But come back over here, Gabriel, and I will show what you are and what you are good for."  
  
He did go back to her, but only long enough to land a hard smack across her face, even as he moved he felt the little dribble of blood starting from his nose and heard Zero begin whispering to him from the inside. He comes, to the South Bunker. Kateline fell over from the impact of his hand, but she was laughing. She liked to be hit by him. Gabriel hurried on his clothes and felt the knowledge getting ready to break into his mind, as one feels the onset of sexual release. He left the room and started down the hall, letting his sense alert him. The intruder was here, but it was hard to determine who it was. Hand in his pocket, Gabriel brought up the communicator and contacted Mikhail.  
  
"He's here, moving toward the south side bunker, where the President and my niece are. Intercept him. I will be there shortly." Gabriel had a duty to see that the Eldest Child was secure before anything else. His running step resounded through the twisting halls as he went to the western wing. The guard outside Anne's door said he had heard nothing. Gabriel had the door unlocked, and after making certain that she was still asleep and the room indeed had not been breeched, he went to Lady Aria, who sat securely in her office, undisturbed and in no danger. No, Zero was whispering about the South Bunker. He was moving there. Gabriel let his speed increase as he went through the house to the adjoining complex.  
  
Heading for the President. Gabriel reached for his gun and cocked it, ready to kill. The complex was barren of security. Where were the guards? Gone, already dispatched. He is hearing it too, he Sees. The warning from Zero didn't come soon enough. Gabriel had reached the target area of the South Bunker when Zero whispered more clearly. The Intruder could See. The Intruder knew he was coming. The Intruder could be Zechs. But more likely . . .  
  
All of it came too late to his mind. Heero Yuy appeared from a darkened corner just outside the room where they were holding Relena Darlian. Gabriel inwardly cursed himself as he was knocked to his knees by the blow. Zero didn't warn him quick enough. Gabriel turned and Saw Heero's movements an instant before he made them. He was able to catch the kick that Heero was levying on him and twist the man's leg until Heero backed off. Gabriel rose to his feet and the two attacked each other. It was a good fight, two children of the Zero system fighting with complete foresight of the other's moves. Heero would block Gabriel's fists and Gabriel would duck Heero's kicks. Skill was irrelevant at this point. It was a stalemate for two fighters who knew their opponents moves before they were made. But the upper hand eventually went to Gabriel. They stood facing each other, each waiting for Zero to tell them who would attack and from where. However, Heero's foresight failed him when from behind him, Mikhail appeared. Gabriel watched him as if in slow motion as Heero turned around to meet the brunt of Mikhail's blade. It was a short but wide blade that the Slavic assassin skillfully twisted as soon as it pierced Heero's abdomen. The small Japanese man uttered a grunt and fell back. It was a bad blow, and a bad wound. The blood already soaked the front of his black t- shirt. Heero fell directly on his back. Gabriel couldn't resist kicking the man while he was down. He was feeling especially ruthless at this moment. So, producing a set of keys from inside his jacket, he unlocked the secured room.  
  
Both Mariemaia and Relena were close to each other, having undoubtedly listened to the fight outside their walls. Gabriel harshly ordered Mariemaia to come to him and she quickly obeyed, recognizing his dangerous mood. The young girl slipped out of the door, looking back once to Relena, who stood, open-mouthed, as Heero was tossed into the room with her by Mikhail. There he collapsed on a white rug and bled. Relena screeched and frantically moved to help him. Gabriel took a tight hold on his niece's arm and spoke lowly to the President.  
  
"I leave him to die in your care." He had Mikhail shut the door and the room was secured. Gabriel then set orders for a double guard at this door at ALL times. With Mariemaia in hand, Gabriel returned to the house. His niece made no noise the entire journey through the complex until the reached the main stairs of the manor house. Gabriel ordered one of the staff present to find a secure and comfortable room for his niece.  
  
"I want to see my mother" Mariemaia suddenly demanded. Gabriel shook his head.  
  
"Leia has been dead a long time." he began waving her off.  
  
"No, I want to see Anne, not Leia. Take me to my mother." She pulled her arm loose from the attendant, scowling defiantly. Gabriel nodded for them to take her away. Mariemaia screamed as she was dragged from the room.  
  
"You liar! You liar! You said you would be a father to me! I hate you, Gabriel. You are nothing. You don't deserve to have my name!" Her voice eventually faded down a dark side hall. Gabriel stood silently for a moment, wishing he could remember making promises to the girl. But he only knew what they had told him about her. That she was his brother's daughter. That she was supposed to mean something to him, that she should be kept safe from harm if he could manage it. That was all he knew. He couldn't remember much about her past that. All he remembered of anything were events involving his brother, Zechs' interloping, and Anne's lies. The rest of his life was either irrelevant or something the Delizabanes would not tell him about.  
  
But he had other things to worry about now. Zechs was going to be coming. He had to think upon when that might happen, and how he would best greet him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
AN: Mentescadere, as mentioned in the review section, is a fictional disorder. It is nothing more than a plot device created for the story. While there are diseases, like Alzheimer's, that affects the neurological functions of the brain and subverts a person's ability to access memory, all Mentescadere is, is a melding of the symptoms of Alzheimer's and Schizphrenia and the splicing of the Latin noun for Mind and the Latin verb infinitive To Sink. 


	12. Choices and Changes

Chapter 11  
  
"Don't be so sure of yourself Zechs, I may decide to kill you after all"  
~Analicia Delizabane  
  
He was talking in his sleep. Okami could hear him from across the room. Earlier that night he had come back to the pitch dark room with blood all over his left hand and she knew something had happened. Mikhail was invigorated with something when he arrived. It seemed he had forgotten about his captive because he just moved into the room, switched on a lamp, and flopped down on his bed, breathing hard and smiling. She didn't want him to remember her presence, and so she kept very still. But eventually his eyes fell on her and soon he was standing over her with his bloody hand.  
  
With very little hesitation, he let her have it. And his violence against her went on for the better part of an hour. Okami took every blow without a cry, without analysis, and imagined herself somewhere else.  
  
When he was finished with her, he simply sat back on his bed and fell asleep. Okami lay in the corner she was left in, feeling her face beginning to swell. Now he was asleep and muttering in his slumber. Okami couldn't make out any of his words amidst the hiss of breath.  
  
Abruptly, the door opened and a woman who looked very much like Lady Une appeared on the threshold. She had a set of keys in her hand. The woman looked from Okami to Mikhail, who had woken and risen to his feet, nodding respectfully. The woman was not happy with what she found there.  
  
"You were not given leave to brutalize the girl" she said in a low voice of authority. Mikhail did not answer her but looked down at the floor, chagrined. She entered the room and the light revealed her better. No, not Lady Une, but very like her. Okami soon found herself being lifted by the woman, and she needed it. Okami wasn't going to be walking by herself for a while.  
  
"Aria wants to see you in thirty minutes. Be in her office. I am taking this girl. You seem to have a problem with breaking your toys"  
  
Mikhail nodded his compliance and watched as Okami was taken away from her. Okami's heart lifted when she heard his door click behind them and the woman's voice saying "Don't be afraid. I serve Analicia Delizabane. Nothing further will be done to you."  
  
Okami held her breath a little and attempted to walk along with the woman who aided her down the hall.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
I am sure Zechs would be appalled to know that Treize had used violence against me in order to get his way (Though not really surprising for a warmonger). Looking back on it, I am somewhat appalled too. But all that really matters is my reaction at the time, and my reaction was one of sudden attraction. Violence was something very familiar to me, and I understood it better than affection. A man with the will to command me and the practicality to use whatever means necessary to get what he wanted, including violence, was almost the definition of sensible and therefore, the closest thing to perfect I had yet seen in a man. I didn't enjoy having my head thrown against a cold stone bench, to be sure. My interest lay in the motives behind such an outburst and I delighted in the opportunity to respond in kind. And so I did.  
  
I had noticed some weeks earlier that Treize was a notorious night owl. He was never abed before one in the morning and he kept these hours still during the festival. The same night he attacked me in the garden, he found my response, while passing through the upper hallway with a few companions, he found me waiting. My hair hid the minor violence he had done on me earlier, and there wasn't enough pain to affect any of my functions. So I stood, poised against the top railing, and smiled prettily at him as he passed me. He gave me an approving nod at my behavior and all his companions very politely greeted me. They were all too busy with their decorum to notice my strategically placed foot until Treize hit it and took a header down the grand stair case. I feigned a gasp of horror and retired to my room where I did not respond to a single knock.  
  
The second night of the festival was even more intense than the first. Treize sported a deep gash on his left temple, but he was not openly hostile. He made me dance and sit with him through much of the early evening to which I complied to avoid causing a public scene. Most of the time he kept a bruising hold on my arm and hid any brutality behind elegant smiles. Aria was once again separated from me that evening. Treize did not like her distracting my attention from him. I soberly tolerated his aggressive attentions and awaited summons from my father.  
  
The game was getting more interesting every hour that passed. I had little idea before the festival just how Treize was received by his contemporaries and colleagues. All of Romafellar revered Treize, and his new outlook on life, destiny, and the world, was already entrancing many. He had what one man referred as "Christ's Passion" for the future. Personally, I was still completely bored and disinterested in grand designs for the world and space. I had absolutely no interest in space or the colonies. My interests lay West in a land I had not yet set foot in. Treize droned on to his entranced entourage much of the night. Tonight, I was playing the part of his tamed Isle pet.  
  
But I saw the young man in red again, moving through the crowd, the lightness of his hair and his melancholy gait was like a beacon to my attention. I again wondered who he was, but Treize wasn't going to allow me to move for a long while. Unless I chose to create a scene, I wasn't going anywhere. So for the time being, I sat still and watched while Treize networked and played the crowd like a violin. Later, when some other young lord turned the conversation away from Treize, he leaned in and whispered for me to go to the rose garden and wait for him. I made my politest excuses and left the group, heading in the direction of the garden. As soon as I was out of sight, I changed directions and went in search of Aria instead.  
  
She was outside on the dance floor. I saw her right away, again wearing green and looking as pretty as she possibly could. Perhaps that was because of the euphoric look on her face. She was dancing and completely entranced with her partner. So busy was I with observing her enchantment that it took me several seconds to notice that she was dancing with my young man, my sad mysterious blond young man. He moved fluidly, and with definite skill. There was purpose and thought in all his movements, but I could still sense the gloom he emitted, as if it were a scent in the air. When the set was complete, I would have Aria introduce me to him. However, a hand clamped my shoulder hard and I groaned audibly, guessing that Treize had found me. I turned with an annoyed look and met the cool brown eyes of my father.  
  
With back straightened, shoulders set, mouth clamped shut and face emotionless, I immediately fell into my disciplined old self. Merrick, with Bram on his left and a stranger on his right, surveyed me. He looked me over as if I were a fine horse, tipping my chin and turning my head this way and that. I felt his finger run over the small cut on my hairline from last night. There would be no more games with Treize now; it was time for duty.  
  
"Good enough." he let his hand fall, his judgment on me passed. Merrick then signaled to Bram.  
  
"Hello Leecy, you look lovely tonight, only a little pale, is all well?" he put his hand on my shoulder and I quickly reported my perfect health, almost a little too efficiently. I had dropped all pretense of lady-like behavior and stood rigid like a soldier in the ranks. Bram nodded and presented the other man with him.  
  
"Leecy, this is General William Washington of New York" the General came forward and bowed formally. He was a man probably in his mid thirties with close cropped black hair and a rugged look. His clothes were Georgian like everyone else, but something set him apart from this Romafellar crowd. It may have been only in my eyes, because he was American.  
  
"Your name is really Washington? How extraordinary" I commented. The General nodded with a small smile.  
  
"I am honored to the name of such a noble man of my country."  
  
"Leecy, General Washington is of the North Columbian Armed Forces. Officially, it is a local branch of the Alliance, unofficially, it is more friendly to our family and the Isle." Bram explained until Washington interrupted. The meaning of Bram's words, though downplayed, were clear; General Washington was under my father's command  
  
"Unofficially we are under the command of the United States of America. Our forces work toward the rebuilding of our former nation. We assist the Isle to that end. Your country, Mr. Wickfield, serves as our benefactor." Bram assented courteously. My father wasn't so easy.  
  
"Benefactor is just a polished way of saying ruler, General. Your American Legion still gives allegiance to the office of Eldest Child so long as we finance and support your military programs. We shield you from unfriendly Alliance eyes and provide you with Mobile Suits to train with. Don't bog the truth down in ideology before my heir."  
  
General Washington nodded obediently, but it was clear that he didn't like this situation and he didn't like my father, which meant that I liked him. Hopefully Merrick would release us all and I would be able to pick the General's brain about the American Legion. But instead, he insisted that we move somewhere private but not too removed from the party. In his infinite wisdom, chose the rose garden.  
  
The rose garden.  
  
I said nothing, saying something would expose my recent association with Treize, and I knew how displeased Merrick would be with that. Even Bram was against me having anything to do with Treize. My only hope was that the he wasn't already there waiting for me. But someone was looking out for me, for the garden was empty when we entered. Once settled, my father began explaining to me my duty as it would relate to General Washington and the American military contingent he command. Merrick told me that events were starting to seriously take shape now, OZ was going to be pushed to the forefront of Alliance military functions; all they needed was the use of superior mobile suit technology. My father was specifically at this holiday celebration to hear the terms proposed by Duke Dermail and Jareth Khushrenada. The meeting had not taken place yet, but it would go one of two ways. If the terms were acceptable and Romafellar did not seek to appropriate more of my father's assets than he was willing to give, then I would be going New York to train with General Washington. If Romafellar's appropriations were more than my father was willing to allow, then I would be going to Berlin, to serve with my cousin Kateline in the Rhineland Army. In the case of the latter, Romafellar would likely respond to my father's refusal by setting the Alliance on us, in which case our territory would become part of that mass of other lands the Alliance controlled. The Alliance had been inching its way toward our territory in both Britain and the Rhineland for some time. Going to Berlin would mean going to war. It all rested on what Romafellar was going to ask for and whether my father was willing to give it.  
  
That stated my father took his leave, Bram following after him, murmuring niceties as he went. General Washington was the last to leave, saying that he hoped that I would be returning with him to New York, that he had heard much of me, that I showed great potential, and that my being part of the American Legion would help to cement the relationship of the Isle and the former American states. He bowed and left. I sat on that notorious garden bench, hoping that events worked in my favor and that I would be able to go with General William Washington.  
  
"What is on your mind, Mon Peu Insurgé?" Treize whispered from behind me. Damn it!  
  
"I have no time for you now, Mr. Khushrenada." My hand waved him off as I made to get up. But his hands on my shoulders bore down with the weight of his body and I was held in place.  
  
"Make time." His words secretly thrilled me; this war between us thrilled me. But even as the blood started pounding in my ears over the sheer excitement of our game, I knew the game couldn't go on. One way or another I was leaving. Still, I remained where I was on the bench while he sat down next to me.  
  
"That's better. Now tell me, what is on my Lady Anne's mind?"  
  
"Stop calling me that!" I barked and shrugged off the arm he was putting around my shoulder. How long had he been in the garden? There had been no one when I had entered with the others. Had he been hiding? Had he heard everything?  
  
"I told you to meet me here some time ago. Where were you?"  
  
"It takes more than a blasé command and a knock on the head to make me obey. Didn't you figure that out last night at the bottom of the stairs?" I couldn't help it. I had to play with him. This personal war with Treize was more exhilarating than anything I had experience with Taber in Ireland. I had never known toying with a man could be so fulfilling.  
  
"My father has told me that he will be holding an important meeting with your father on New Years. I think you mean to leave me after that." He stated it so blandly that it didn't sound like a blow, but it felt like one. New York or Berlin, either place would mean one definite thing, I would be far away from Treize Khushrenada.  
  
"You must remember, Treize, I have never really been with you. I am sure you won't miss what you never had." I tried to smile at him. He shrugged and looked at the ground.  
  
"Touché, Mon Plus Cher"  
  
We sat in silence for a time, each of us contemplating the loss of the other. He drew a slow breath, as if to say something profound but a voice interrupted his intention.  
  
"So this is where you are hiding." He had a quiet voice.  
  
We turned around simultaneously and my stomach flipped. It was him, the sad looking young man, standing at the entrance of the garden. Treize smiled and got up from the bench, pulling me up with him and walking toward our new arrival. They clasped arms like brothers.  
  
"Zechs, old boy, when did you get here? I thought you were due earlier than this."  
  
His name was Zechs.  
  
"I was here on schedule, but you, my Lord, were nowhere to be found. Even your mother didn't know where to find you. Unfortunately, traveling takes much out of me, and I was asleep by the time you took that fall down the stairs. Is this the young lady you fell for?" Zechs indicated me and Treize presented me, using my real name and not the silly one he had invented for me. I said something small and appropriate, but I was too busy observing Zechs to be self-conscious or aware of what Treize was saying about me.  
  
"They say she tripped you purposefully." Was that a smile Zechs Merquise was cracking? No, this young man didn't smile. Treize eyed the young man carefully and I got the feeling that these two were not just friendly acquaintances. Somehow, Zechs and Treize went beyond that, and so Zechs could be bold with his words. "That she did" was all Mr. Khushrenada said, but his hand was tighter on my arm now. Then he turned to me and told me to leave them alone for a while. He needed to speak with Zechs. I willingly complied, although I was still interested in Zechs. I found myself tired, and so, avoiding any more encounters with various people at the party, I retired to my room.  
  
The next morning, Aria cornered me with her tale of the young Zechs Merquise, with whom she had danced with the night before. As foretold by her expression when I had seen her, Aria was besotted with the young man whose name she did not catch. In the spirit of helpfulness, I gave her the young man's identity and the reaction was not a happy one. Aria's eyes narrowed and she questioned me crisply on how I had managed to get Zechs Merquise's name when every one else didn't know it or was too intimidated to ask him. Already she had developed a jealous passion for him. I explained the circumstances and Aria seemed momentarily pacified, but it was immediately understood that remaining in Aria's good graces would mean staying away from Zechs Merquise. Any interest I had in Zechs was pushed away in favor of keeping the peace with my younger sister.  
  
But now it was time to think about New York and Berlin and to which one I would go. My better judgment had already voted New York. Merrick wouldn't be so unreasonable as to provoke Romafellar and the Alliance. No matter how powerful my family was, we couldn't stand up to the rest of the world if they moved against us, and with only a few exceptions, the Alliance was the world.  
  
This was going to be so excellence. New York was historically one of the greatest of the American cities. Historically, my family had come from Boston and the surrounding areas when they had lived in North Columbia (as the world had renamed it after its destruction). General Washington was a real American, and with a name like Washington! How lucky he was. It couldn't have been better if he was a Kennedy, Roosevelt, or a Lincoln. In New York, I would probably be trained in Mobile Suit Piloting. In Berlin, I would be trained in Mobile Suit Combat, via actual battles.  
  
The rest of the festival was so boring I can't even remember most of it. There were only a few occasions of note. One were Gabriel was threatened with dismemberment by his brother if he even tried to talk to me. This did not go over well with Gabriel and Treize had already had too much to drink that night. So the two concluded the argument with fists, during which time I was able to sneak away while Zechs attempted to break it up. Another occasion involved my being heckled to death by a gaggle of pre-teens. They were fascinated that I was from the Isle and they poked at me as if I was some rare bird in a golden cage. This was irritating and I literally pushed them out of the way and ran to find some privacy. When I crossed through the parlor, I saw Treize and his father coming out of his office. They saw me and Treize signaled to his father, approaching me. I had the distinct suspicion they were discussing me.  
  
On New Years Eve, Treize and I had the largest of our "Pre-OZ" fights. I had thought he had given up on his 'destiny' talk and about my role in creating the future with him, but I was mistaken. Though he no longer persisted with marriage proposals, he still insisted I not leave with my father, offering me positions in the Specials and any number of opportunities that would allow me to remain. Tensions were strained between us without all these proposals. Earlier that day, Leia Barton and her father Dekim had arrived and Treize was formally engaged to her at an elaborate luncheon. It did not bother me at the time and I was actually very civil to Leia when were introduced. But Leia was not deaf and people at the parties had been talking. No doubt word of my mysterious association with Treize had reached her. She was polite, but distant, as if threatened. I heard from others around that she and Treize had already met in Outer Space earlier in the year, under not very acceptable circumstances. None of us could be aware at that time that Leia was already pregnant with Mariemaia. But it later explained to me why Leia was in haste to marry Treize. I can never say for sure, but I believe Treize never knew about his daughter. They would be divorced less than two months after their marriage in early January (an offence for which Treize was excommunicated and renounced all faith in God). She could have easily hid her pregnancy from him in that time frame.  
  
In any case, it was the last night I would be in Lyon at Manoir Cristal. And so Treize was behaving desperately. Most often, his brain damage was hidden by a calm demeanor, a demeanor that was actually caused by the damage, but that was too mundane to cause anyone suspicion. The calmness was almost always unbroken, and that was where the signs of his damage lay. It was difficult to arouse Treize to any sort of outburst, and so he appeared to be calm and infinitely patient. In reality, the overdose had rendered him almost incapable of excitement. However, it was not impossible to get a violent or emotional reaction from him. That night in the rose garden where he hurt me had been the first. New Years Eve was the last.  
  
My father was at that time in conference with Jareth and Dermail. I was in my room, packing for New York. Aria was doing the same down the hall. I locked Treize out earlier. His calmly delivered ravings were getting more irritating by the hour and after dinner I had had enough of him. Someone had obviously told him I was in my room packing and this may have been what set him off. My books had just been secured in one of my travel cases when several very loud bangs destroyed my door. He was steaming mad, and it was fascinating to see. When he was so agitated, he slurred and stuttered his words. Sometimes he got confused and start his speeches again from the beginning. Watching Treize loose his cool was like watching a train wreck, you couldn't tear your eyes away. We commenced arguing for the better part of an hour.  
  
"You will s-stop packing!" he barked, tearing things out of my hands.  
  
"I am leaving" I sang to him, picking up another bundle of clothes.  
  
"Have you no sense of duty? I would expect someone who has such a c- commitment to knowledge and understanding to have more of a c-c-care for the future."  
"What are you going to do Treize? Lock me in the basement? Give up this ridiculous plan of ruling the world and bringing about new eras. You are just one man and no matter how charismatic or influential you think you may be, you can't pull off what you plan! And if in some way you DID pull it off, I still wouldn't help you."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because you are mad! You have bloody brain damage, and damaged people have no business ruling the world. Damaged people shouldn't have any power at all! That is just straight logic and even I know that. Do you have any idea how messed up you are now, Treize? Do you understand what that overdose did to your brain? Look at you, you can barely contain yourself and you can hardly put together coherent sentences. You need therapy, Treize. Therapy, not power. And I am the LAST person who should be helping you take over the world to achieve a new era you dreamed up during a drug induced coma! Can I be any clearer than this?" Hands moved in a flurry to accentuate my point. I was just about at the end of my rope with him. No one was going to take New York from me, and it was best that Treize realized how crazy he sounded now before he ruined himself before his peers later with this insanity.  
  
He was hurt, very clearly and very keenly. Did he need me to believe in his dream so much? Who can say, but Treize nodded and gathered up the remains of his pride. It looked almost like an animal that recoils back on itself, twitching a few times, and growing still, dying. And it stung me with shame to see his pride so shattered. But truth before feelings had long been my policy. He needed to know these things and perhaps I was the only one who could really tell him. Still, I felt a pang of guilt at having been so harsh. Would I have tolerated anyone being so blatant about my own impending disorder? No, I would never hold myself as gracefully after such a barrage of words as Treize now did. He made to leave but I stopped him. Humility wasn't something I knew much about and I was awkward as I apologized. It didn't seem right to see such a dejected look on his face. In hindsight, it seems like sacrilege. Going on instinct, I put my hands on his shoulders.  
  
"You have a very noble dream, but you have to be realistic about this world. It doesn't bend for us and we can't make it bend. We have to take things as they come and do our duty."  
  
"That is how it is for you, Anne, but not for me. You let things happen to you. You let people direct you from one stage of life to another. Your duty is the chain that binds you from taking any responsibility for your own life; you hide behind it. Life for you is just a series of passive existences. If it weren't for your family duty, the life your family has planned for you, and what they have taught you to love and revere, you would probably stay with me. If it wasn't for your house, would you be capable of being the person I wish you could be? A woman of action and of true knowledge, who seeks the world instead of letting it seek her?" His gaze was once again calm, and steady. His eyes were blue, very blue and cool, gentle. His words were so true and so hurtful. But it must be truth before feelings, as always. We had delivered each other equal revelations and equal blows.  
  
Treize had never been more right. He saw things quite clearly and I hadn't given him credit for it. His estimation of me, though I was reluctant to accept it, was dead on. We stood there while I struggled for an answer. If it weren't for all my other obligations, who would I be? Who would Leecy be if she was left to be herself? He spoke as if he had read my mind.  
  
"That's why I call you Anne instead. It is the name I give to your true self, the one who doesn't mask herself with duty or family obligation. I have seen glimpses of you, Anne, peeking out when the shadow of your family isn't looming over you. So I am asking, if it were just you, Anne, would you stay?"  
  
The thoughts and ideas that followed were like a foreign language. Was I so much a product of my household? How sad that I took no responsibility but the ones they gave me. How pathetic that I never stood up and made an attempt to stem the tide of my fate. If I was so dissatisfied with it, why didn't I ever rebel, as I had done at Lefrey's? I was the worst sort of coward and I had been using behind my family duty as a way deferring responsibility for my own weak acceptance of what life had thrown me.  
  
"Yes" I answered automatically, and it was a true response, the kind I didn't have to think about, the kind that was instant because it was absolutely true.  
  
"Stay." Maybe he wasn't crazy. Maybe he had just woken up to something that I was still sleeping through.  
  
"Yes." Was it possible for me to believe in him as others did? He did indeed have that passion that drew believers to his vision and that same gravity was yanking on my spirit. It held tight, anchoring me to him with an unspoken promise.  
  
"I only ever want you to be honest with yourself." He did want that. He must have wanted that.  
  
"I . . . I need to talk to Aria first" Aria had to support me in this. She would affirm all.  
  
"Then we will go find her" Treize took my arm and together we left the room. The whole time my mind repeated to me that I wanted to stay, that I could stay, that my name was Anne and I could stay. It was all completely possible and obvious. I could stay with him and I could go to New York whenever I wanted. It didn't have to be now or never. Yes! I could! I didn't have to wait on a choice of war in Berlin or training in New York. No ultimatums loomed over me if I didn't allow them to. I could do as I pleased. My family was counting on me, but . . . what had my family ever really done but jerk me from one stage of 'duty' to another. There was Aria, and she was someone I didn't want to give up. But even Aria argued for the destiny of my family duty. No one had ever offered me a choice. Never. No one. I held Treize's arm tighter, and he supported me as if I had trouble walking, holding my arm firmly. I reveled in the sudden romance of his touch.  
  
We reached the main reception area which was choked with people preparing for the midnight hour. The hall was brightly lit and warmed by a great fireplace on one side. For the first time, the swirl of dresses and perfumes mingled in my senses and I soaked in the luxury and opulence of the place as if it were a finely poured bath. The sounds seemed clearer and the taste on the air more potent. All my senses attuned to the environment, and yet my mind was so far above it all. On my mouth hung a bewildered smile as I looked about, my eyes falling here and there, but not registering anything but the red hair that would signal my sister in the crowd. Slowly, I began to register the whispers of voices around us who spoke of Treize and me; so obviously in a romantic stance. What would Leia think? Did we have no shame? None of these words had an impact on me. My mind was on Treize and the idea of staying, and of going where I wished. Staying and going as I chose, as he was promising. Treize.  
  
It was then I heard Aria calling from the stairs. Of course! She had been upstairs packing just as I had. I waved to her and her look of puzzlement penetrated my entranced state. Aria was in a white silk dress with no shoes on. How tiny she was. She came to me and her puzzlement turned to disapproval. Immediately she chastised me about the scene I was making. Didn't I realize that Treize was parading me around, even in front of his newly declared fiancé? Had I no pride in myself that I would play the part of public whore to this uniformed jack rabbit? I looked around and in the slowly gathering crowd I could see Leia. Her face was tight with barely concealed humiliation. Treize wouldn't look at her, so instead he whispered in my ear that I didn't need to listen to Aria if I didn't want to. I had a choice in that too. Yes, his way offered me many choices that had never existed before. Choices were freedom; freedom was the blood of America. Treize was the equal to that distant shore. My thoughts were heady and aloft. Treize and Aria were exchanging heated words while I stood between them, eyes glazed and mouth open slightly, as if witnessing a miracle. I fixated on how small my sister was without her shoes.  
  
"You really are a tiny thing, Aria" I murmured with a gentle smile laced in my voice.  
  
"What?" Aria stopped in mid-argument with Treize.  
  
"Without your shoes, I mean. Where did you put your shoes?"  
  
Stay, I would stay, with him, with Treize. The past meant nothing. The past was whatever I chose to remember, whatever I needed to remember.  
  
"Oh Hell, Leecy, snap out of it. Now is not the time for you to be phasing out like this" Aria was snapping her fingers before my eyes as of I were in a trance. Why was she doing that? Why was everyone staring like that? Treize held my arm and whispered that there was no need to be upset by my sister. If it made me feel better I could retire. Aria tried to talk over him, articulating my duties and responsibility toward the Isle.  
  
The Isle? What a silly name for a place. Where was that exactly? I couldn't remember at that very moment. Within a few seconds I decided it would be best not to remember and to think of other things in its place. So I turned to Treize and looked into his eyes for something more pleasant to recall instead of what Aria was talking about. But a booming voice that came from the end of the hall drew me right back to earth from where ever I had been. The voice called my name, very harshly, very angrily. Reality exploded around me and I stared at Treize, simply listening to the anger that was at that very moment coursing across the grand hallway toward me. Treize, like everyone else, was looking in the direction of its source. I could hear the boots irately striking the fine wood floor, coming closer. I didn't want to look away from Treize. I didn't want to see how frightening my approaching father would be.  
  
Jareth and Duke Dermail trailed him. It was soon evident that Merrick had become enraged during his meeting with them. Jareth was pleading with my father to not make a scene in his house. Dermail shouted coarsely about civility and proper manners, something I knew my father lacked any appreciation for. Neither man could hold back the storming man, who was calling for my sister and me. The meeting must have gone badly. But it was to be worse, for Merrick, in his tirade, had caught a glimpse of Treize and I holding onto each other like a pair of fledgling lovers amidst of crowd of spectators. With that, my father had promptly flew into an uncontrollable fury and approached us quickly.  
  
There was not much time before Merrick would cover the distance of the hall and reach me. I heard the hard click of his boot heels and knew without looking that he was at a fast pace and from the swish of fabric. I knew that people were getting out of his way expediently. So my eyes stayed on Treize, willing him to look back at me. There was no time to speak, so please let my eyes make him understand. My fate resounded with the ever approaching footfall. There were no choices for me, not while Merrick lived. He wasn't going to let me stay. He had all the choices, all the control. Even at that moment I knew I wouldn't walk out of this house, I would be dragged and humiliated. There was going to be violence. I knew how things in my family worked. Only a few more seconds. Treize, look at me! I can't stay. I have no choices. I only have duty. But I love you for brief illusion. Please look at me so I can make you understand. Please.  
  
I tell myself now that he did look back in time. But I don't remember; which is for the best. I have no wish to recall being physically parted from Treize. Because hindsight is twenty-twenty, I can now, in the present, understand what he made me want and feel in less than a month of knowing him. I tell myself that he tried to stop my father once he reached me. But I know Treize, and he was a man who knew his own limits. That seventeen year old boy was no match for the fury of the Count of Mortain. Since I have choices now, I chose not to remember what happened, only that I looked my last on Treize, and awoke in Berlin four and a half days later.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Zechs breathed in sharply as the hand poked at the small of his back. It was nudging him, making sure he was awake. Beneath him, Zechs felt the soft cotton sheets and pillow. They were cool and smooth and promised a peaceful slumber. He could feel the heaviness all over his body from being woken out of a sound sleep. Slowly, Zechs turned over onto his other side to face the owner of the nudging hand.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"You were talking in your sleep again. You know I can't sleep when your voice in wringing in my head." She had the sheets wrapped around her body and she propped her head up on her arm. The room was very dark, but he could still make out how her eyes held affection for him. He smiled back dreamily.  
  
"What was I saying?"  
  
"I don't know. I don't listen to you when you are awake. Why would I listen when you are asleep?" She leaned forward, kissing his forehead lightly and then fell back against the pillows underneath her. Zechs laughed at her quip.  
  
"Didn't you tell me that you had already slept enough for two lifetimes? Why so eager to sleep now?" he asked her. She chuckled and pushed back the sweep of her long hair.  
  
"Yes, but there is a difference, with you I sleep well. Not like those other times where I slept for other reasons besides rest. That's the trouble! You make my dreams restful and pleasant, but now your blabbering won't let me sleep at all. I just can't win with you" She laughed and laid a hand on his bare chest. He pulled on her arm and brought her closer to him.  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't disclose that I talked in my sleep when I applied for this job as your lover." She smacked his chest and he made a laughing wince.  
  
"You make me sound so professional, like you are a copy boy and I am some kinky paper-pusher."  
  
"Well, you are a paper-pusher. But I was hoping to work a little on the kinky part . . ." He loved joking with her. She huffed indignantly and started half-heartedly pulling away even as he laughed and held her down.  
  
"Shut up you dog!"  
  
"If I am a dog then that makes you my bitch"  
  
"Then you are a boar, Zechs Merquise." She murmured in between a flurry of quick but meaningful kisses which were coated with their laughter.  
  
His laughter was then muffled by the pillow as he awoke. Zechs opened his eyes and felt the humor and delight resounding through his body. But things quickly faded as his true surroundings asserted themselves and he understood it had been nothing more than a dream. Still, he couldn't help but quick glance to the space next to him in bed, which was empty, not even a phantom scent lingering there to mark her passing. He was alone, in Brussels, and she was still in Dover. Zechs felt all mirth evaporate and be replaced by familiar despondency. A great tired sigh emptied from his chest. Zechs laid his head back on the pillow, which he was startled to find wet. He ran his hand over it, feeling more than a mere night sweat. Hastily, he turned on the lamp on the nightstand. There was blood everywhere, all over the pillow and down the sheets. Zechs wiped his nose and confirmed the source of the blood. Just a run-of-the-mill night nose bleed? No, he could feel the last vestiges of blood dripping from his right ear. The despondency lifted as he grasped the situation. This was not a dream. It was another vision, a vision of the future. Zechs stared at the blood in disbelief for a long time until he found himself laughing again. Inside, the mirth had returned and with it a feeling that was practically foreign to him.  
  
Hope.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Slow down . . ." Hildre blurted out, gripping the handle of the car door and wincing nervously. The car sped on, the driver either deaf or ignoring her. They rounded a particularly sharp corner and Hildre felt certain the car went up on two wheels.  
  
"Please slow down" she was trying to be polite. Ten seemed like the kind of guy who would speed up if you demanded that he slow down. His hand jerk the gear shift, bringing the speed down slightly, but only for a few seconds, putting the car back into fifth as they reached another straight away. A rugged smile played on his face.  
  
"What the matter?" he asked sarcastically.  
  
"I am uncomfortable with driving this fast" she cleared her throat before answering.  
  
"You can pilot Mobile Suits. Yet a little speed makes you uncomfortable?"  
  
"It's different. Besides, we could be pulled over." Hildre tightened her seatbelt. Ten laughed at her naivety, pulling a cigarette out of his breast pocket and pushing in the lighter on the dashboard.  
  
"Preventers don't get 'pulled over' sweetheart. Not in this town" The lighter clicked and the cigarette was soon lit. Ten took a deep drag, tapping his free hand against the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio.  
  
"You've never driven with Zechs, I guess. Guy drives like a bat out of hell. Funny, I thought you two were friends." Ten exhaled. Hildre looked out the window as Ten down-shifted and came to a safer speed.  
  
"Preventer Wind isn't as law-abiding as he should be. But Commander Une always emphasized respecting the laws of the land" Hildre couldn't keep a little self-righteousness out of her voice. Ten didn't seem impressed as he shrugged and inhaled again.  
  
"I don't know shit about your 'Commander'. Never served her, never knew her and never cared to. Zechs is more my cup of tea. We do what we want."  
  
"Zechs doesn't do what he wants, he does what he must. There is a big difference." They turned another corner and Ten sped up again. She was right. He was the kind of guy who would make you uncomfortable if he didn't like what you said.  
  
"If he is that kind of guy, then how come we haven't blown the Isle off the face of the earth?" Ten held the cigarette in the air as he took his eyes off the road to look at her. "Something holding Zechs back? As I remember of it, the Lightning Count was never a man for delay."  
  
"Zechs is older now, not the man you remember from the Eve Wars. He is much more a man of restraint."  
  
"If you say so, darlin'. Just think it's not quite on target"  
  
Ten hit the back road hard. They were making their way to the base in Degunther-Mailse where the Scorpio reserve was located. Some of the collected scientists had some leads on the problem of the Calypso Cloak. It resisted Electro Magnetic Pulses, Radar detection, Heat Sensor and a handful of other less likely avenues. The remains of a few ruined suits gave the researches a tool in discovering what kind of technology had gone into making the suit's systems. Once they arrived, Ten lead Hildre down into the bowels of the base where a gaggle of sleep-deprived men and women clad in lab coats tinkered with metal and typed on their databases.  
  
"It's important to know your enemy. Before they were taken over by the Alliance, The Isle was one of the main manufactures of Mobile Suit technology. Even after their brief resistance, their technology was still used to outfit the Specials of OZ, which is the chief reason they had such superior suits. Before the Gundams, Britain was the Mecca of Mobile Suit Production. I myself am inclined to think the Gundam Scientists were either borrowing some of The Isle's concepts or they were in collaboration with them in the sharing of technologies" Ten presented his insights to Hildre as she walked with him through the lab.  
  
This really wasn't her forte at all. Hildre was a pilot and salvager, not a scientist and certainly not a military historian. She felt certain that Ten was aware of this and that perhaps he was trying to show off. Ten broke his one-sided conversation with Hildre in order to speak with one of the scientists. Behind her, a ragged looking man poured over the five open books that lay before him, underneath the books lay unrolled diagrams and sheets of loose paper with formulas written on them. The man was older with graying hair that hung down to his shoulders. His glasses were askew on his head and the five o'clock shadow confirmed that he had been working for a long time.  
  
"High altitude explosions produce EMPs that are dramatically more destructive. About 3x10^-5 of the bomb's total energy goes into EMP in this case" the man whispered at her. Hildre turned in full to engage him.  
  
"An EMP is formed in high altitude explosions when the downwardly directed gamma rays encounter denser layers of air below"  
  
Hildre just blinked.  
  
"That is what they used five centuries ago, you know. The high altitude EMP. They detonated a warhead in the upper atmosphere. Knocked the ISS right down in the middle of West Virginia." The scientist explained.  
  
"The ISS?" Hildre asked. The scientists rolled his eyes in annoyance.  
  
"The International Space Station! They knocked it right out of orbit. They were able to pull it down actually. See normally it would just hang there uselessly in orbit. But high altitude EMP from nuclear reactions have a pull effect. It came down right out the Geosynchronous orbit, pulled north by the EMP and Magnetic North, and landed smack in the middle of the USA."  
  
This man clearly needed to sleep.  
  
"I often wonder where we would be, how far we might have come if that hadn't happened. It's like when Rome fell. The world became dark. We didn't understand how much we needed Rome. Just like America. Everyone was so busy hating it that nobody realized how much it was needed. But I don't think Europe minded much, they got fat on America's carcass. But still, I wonder where we would be if those Arab nations hadn't brought down the ISS? Where would we be today if not for that second dark age?" The man pondered for a few seconds more and then went back to his research. Hildre moved away from him politely but quickly and went over to where Ten was in conference with what seemed to be the head of the crew.  
  
"Precision frequency only." The crew head was finishing off a report to Ten, who was chewing on his bottom lip while reading through a mess of papers handed to him.  
  
"How many plausible frequencies are there?"  
  
"Innumerable amounts. The frequencies can fall between 3000 hertz and 300,000,000,000 hertz. But this is the best we have. It works for 7/100 of a second and then a fail-safe is triggered in the system. It has to be a very exact frequency to short out the fail-safe along with the primary cloak and only if the samples we recovered are representative of the initial design and not corrupted. It is possible that these samples, having been damaged, are giving us different results than an undamaged Calypso would give."  
  
"We would have to take that risk. Commander Zechs has a deadline and we have hostages to consider. Are we aiming for High or Low Frequency?"  
  
"Our estimate right now is High. But until we have an exact frequency tested and certified, you have no weapon. There is no point in attacking enemy at their source if you have no weapon." The lab head asserted as Ten began waving him off.  
  
"Well, that's your job, not mine. Find the right frequency and we will have a defense. You said yourself that this was the only thing we've got. So make it work." Ten nodded to Hildre, cranking his head toward the door, indicating that she was to follow. Hildre fell into step beside him. Ten still fiddled with the lengthy report in his hands.  
  
"What frequency were you talking about?" she asked.  
  
"High Energy Radio Frequency. The technology is similar to that of the Electro Magnetic Pulse. But it requires more precision."  
  
"Not following you."  
  
Ten sighed, obviously irritated that Hildre didn't have a Ph D. in Physics. "It's causes massive disruption in any system that requires electricity. A form of EMP's created without the use of a nuclear reaction and much more concentrated. The Calypso suits are somehow resistant to our convention EMP weapons. It seems they upgraded their system with fail-safes after the first encounter at Preventer Headquarters. Our scientists have been testing the samples systems we took from the battle field. The Calypso cloak hides and absorbs all signals, or reflects a different signal back. Either way we can't target them. It's called ECM, Electronic Counter Measures. All pretty standard stuff only their fail-safe system resists the EMP. Now the good doctor back there has had a 7/100 of a second success with the High Energy Radio Frequency in disabling the cloak without the fail-safe coming online. But he believes that we need a very high and precise frequency, or at least a starting point frequency to use against the suit and the test could be corrupted. It's all we have to go on there. The solution is to test until we find the frequency that kicks that fail-safe in the can. That is a shit load of frequencies to work through and we are working on a deadline here."  
  
"Heh, I knew we wouldn't get a plan on his desk by morning. That was wishful thinking on Zechs' part, even if he is a psychic." Hildre pulled out a cell phone, getting ready call Sally who was taking a break from the project.  
  
"Psychic? Commander Zechs is a Psychic?" Ten asked skeptically and Hildre decided against explaining.  
  
"It's .just an office joke."  
  
Sally picked up the phone after several rings and Hildre could tell she had been asleep. The woman was doing the work of three people in addition to being driven crazy by Zechs' ever increasing eccentricity. Last she had heard, Zechs had asked Sally to check out Treize Alexander's fever after she was finished with work; to which Sally replied rather testily that she was never finished with work and it was his bloody fault. After being scolded yet again by Preventer Water Zechs had proclaimed all women insane and sent Sally home for some rest.  
  
"We have a working theory. But it's over my head so I'll let Ten explain" Hildre spoke into the receiver, ready to turn the phone over to Ten, but Sally's hurried voice stopped her.  
  
"No no no no no! I want a break from that ASS. I tell you Hildre . . . between Tenacious and Zechs. ugh. I'm going to be clinically insane by the end of this. So you give me the rundown." Hildre looked over at Ten, who could plainly hear what was being said about him. He winked at her and gave another bad boy smile. She quickly put her back to him, trying to explain as best she could the theory of the HERF. Sally cut her off halfway through and said she would get in touch with Wufei and Trowa about it. She felt that Trowa would do best at understanding all the jargon. Hildre said she was going to have Ten drop her off at the Khushrenada estate to confer with Zechs. She wanted to see if Zechs had had any visions. They tended to come at night. With a click the phone was flipped back into its compact form and replaced in her pocket. Ten and Hildre got back into his car just as the first light of day shown on the eastern horizon.  
  
"So, . . . are you and Zechs . . ." Ten started, plainly trying to make small talk. "Are you and Zechs . . . an item?"  
  
The hilarity of such an idea made Hildre's jaw drop. The very thought of being romantically attached to Zechs Merquise made Hildre want to bang her head into the dashboard or put out one of Ten's cigarettes in her eye.  
  
"Nooooo. Zechs is just a friend. That man is too complicated for almost any woman to handle." She laughed off the idea. Sure, Zechs was cute as hell, but too much of a head case. Although the fact that he could kick her ass in a mobile suit made him very sexy at times. Nope, Zechs wasn't right for her at all. Too brooding and far too unavailable.  
  
"Oh, so, you are unattached?"  
  
"You could sort of say that" an image of Duo entered her mind and she winced a little, turning her face to the window so Ten wouldn't see.  
  
"In that case, how does dinner sound?"  
  
Hildre was floored that she had so blatantly walked into it. She turned back to the young man whose hair hung around his face in much the same fashion as that of Heero Yuy. He also had that smug expression on again. Was he so confident that she would say yes? Well, if he thought she was so simply defeated, he had another thing coming.  
  
"I have a boyfriend" she said stiffly.  
  
"Yet you say you are unattached."  
  
"He is in a coma."  
  
Ten made a hissing noise. "Then I am sure he won't mind where you eat your dinner."  
  
"My boyfriend is a Gundam Pilot!" Hildre added with her own brand of smugness. Duo's fighting prowess had always made her proud to be attached to him.  
  
"And I suppose you think I can't compete with that, eh? Gundam Pilots don't impress me all that much. Everyone else may oh and ah over them. But the truth is that most pilots with a modicum of skill could have done equally well in a Gundam. The difference lies in the suit, not the pilot. Put a Gundam Pilot in a Leo and he is just as good as any other pilot. That's why Zechs and Khushrenada are so revered, not because of their skills, but because of the balls they had to pilot those suits." Ten reached into his breast pocket for another cigarette. Hildre just stared at him for a while before asking "You think you could do better?"  
  
Ten stuck the butt in the corner of his mouth and leaned in toward Hildre. One eyebrow lifted and his smile was wolfish. "I know I could. Give me a chance and I will." Ten lit the cigarette as Hildre watched with her lips parted and her eyes narrowed in abrupt curiosity. The car turned out onto the main stretch of highway and Ten shifted, working his way up to fifth gear. The car picked up velocity immediately and Hildre grabbed the sides of her seat.  
  
"Slow down!!!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
It was still an hour before dawn and Relena was holding on by a thread. Over and over again she told herself to be calm and struggled to keep the terrible fear that rose in her throat whenever Heero's breath seemed to skip a beat. She had long ago pulled free a pillow case and kept it pressed hard against his abdomen. The bleeding had abated within fifteen minutes. But Relena remembered her courses at St. Gabriel, in particular her Human Anatomy class, and she was sure Heero would have internal injuries. He hadn't spoken a single word to her since he had been flung into the room by Gabriel hours earlier. Everyone once and a while he made a grunting noise that signaled his pain. Some times his breathing picked up, other times it slowed down to a drowsy beat. That was when she would shake him and force him awake as best she could. Fear and initial shock had prevented her from looking at the wound for at least forty five minutes. When she finally pulled away the wadded up and bloodied pillow case, she was able to clearly see the mangled wound. Frantically she had asked Heero what she could do. But the young man wouldn't answer her. He just kept staring up into the ceiling or about the room, gritting his teeth and maintaining his breath. How would she keep him alive? She would try again.  
  
"Heero, what should I do?"  
  
"Pilot error . . ."  
  
"Heero?"  
  
"Pilot error . . .Pilot error" Heero closed his eyes and moved his head to the side. Relena felt the side of his face and it was cold. She thought about that day in the rain when she had foolishly almost gone off the bridge. He had been there. Now she was here for him. He had to live. She had to keep him alive. Heero was actually chuckling and Relena pressed the soiled cloth against his mid section a little tighter.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"She'll get them back." He opened his eyes and looked at her and his hand fell over his.  
  
"It will be okay, Relena." And only when he promised such did she believe it would be so.  
  
The door opened and Relena stood in an offensive position over Heero. Immediately a young woman holding another young woman entered. She placed her charge down easily on the ground. Relena recognized her as the woman who had come to Anne before they had been captured.  
  
"I am saving her life" she stated plainly as she walked out and shut the door. The lock resumed. The girl lifted her head. It was Sudara Okami, or what was left of her. The whole of her face was swollen and bruised. One eye was swelled shut. The other stained red and bleeding. Okami lifted her head up and saw Relena, who had saved her tears all this time. This was too far away from Relena's understanding. She couldn't stop the tears that began to fall as she looked upon the beaten woman.  
  
"She said that if I stayed with him, he would end up killing me." She pulled herself into a sitting position and Heero turned his head. Upon seeing her, he smiled and lifted himself up with Relena's help. She held him in her arms as he struggled to breathe and speak  
  
"Been waiting for you to come. He didn't take it from you did he?" Heero asked but gave her no time to answer. "Of course he didn't."  
  
Okami, her face impassive because of the swelling, just stared at Heero. Her body was stalk still as if she was realizing something he had always known. Relena watched the two and with the mounting tension gripping her, she held tighter to Heero, waiting for Okami's next action to affirm some revelation. Finally, Okami, rose shakily, wiped her nose on her sleeve, and stood proudly, beaten but not defeated.  
  
She put her hand in her pocket and Relena watched as she slowly pulled out the com device. It was the size of a half dollar and fit right in the palm of her hand. Heero smiled and coughed, reaching up his hand for it.  
  
"I had forgotten it. I thought sure he was going to take everything I had. Everything. But he didn't get it all. He missed this" She stared down at the device as if it were now everything. Relena heard Okami's one tear splatter on the device.  
  
"That was why you came. This is what you are here to do. This . . . is your . . . revenge" Heero's eyes were closed again and he held out his hand even as his body slumped. Okami came forward after hearing his words and dropped the device in his hand. After, Relena reached for Okami's hand and grasped it tightly.  
  
"What did he do to you?" she murmured as Heero felt the device with his fingers instead of his eyes. Okami didn't look at either of them, but focused on the wall opposite them.  
  
"Everything" she muttered lowly.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"We are locking down in ten hours. If you have any calls to make on the unsecured channels make them now. After that all signals will be negated by the Cloak." Aria informed her family lieutenants. All of them were present, Kateline, Mathius, Shireen. Gabriel, Bram, and Mikhail sat back behind them. Every few moments the sound of a crack could be heard as Gabriel broke into some nuts that were on the table.  
  
"This action is being taken because of the two intruders we had today. Now both intruders have been dealt with, but these are precarious times and it is clear that security is not what it should be. I realize that Heero Yuy is not your average trespasser and that he has a track record of breaking into the most secure places, but the girl is inexcusable. I want this place tight and if it means Cloaking us, then so be it."  
  
"This is a bit premature, don't you think? I thought we were waiting on the graces of your sister to start any defense operation. If Zechs were to attack he would be destroyed by the armada of Calypsos we have here." Kateline offered.  
  
"Zechs will come, and soon. He will not be simply swatted out of the sky." Gabriel spoke from behind them, popping a nut in his mouth.  
  
"And The Eldest Child? Surely you must abandon the plan of placing her at the front. She is a vegetable and even if she does convalesce, there is little chance that she will accept your terms."  
  
"Anne will be waking up in the next 10 hours." Gabriel prophesized with ease, washing down the nuts with a glass of water he had poured. Mathius seethed beside his cousin Kateline and glared back at Gabriel. With Gabriel in the house, Kateline had all but forgotten Mathius. Aria spoke up again in defense of her plan.  
  
"It is essential that Leecy be at the front when the time comes. Only she can call up the power we need. The American Legion does not acknowledge me. But they will respond to her. If we have the American Legion at our disposal, then we will drive the Preventers into the ground. America will destroy this hypocrisy called the ESUN and we will fulfill the dream of my father and the dream of his fathers all the way back to the ones who watched our country fall."  
  
Aria's eyes shined with her dream and with what she considered to be the only good destiny left for her kind. They could all die after this so long as she could have her dream. Zechs was beyond her reach, and even Leecy wasn't what she remembered. There was nothing worth living for but this dream. She knew that she had become a generic character of a history that was full of martyrs. This was not unlike Khushrenada's chosen fate and not far away from the idealist vigor that she so despised in Relena Darlian. But perhaps there was something secretly noble about them and their visions. What she was doing was for everyone else but herself. When that Eagle rose again, she would not be alive to see it, nor would Leecy or any other member of her family. But it would be worth it. When the American Legion came and wiped out the Preventers at Analicia's command. The world would know and understand the price of complacency and stagnation.  
  
Aria looked at Gabriel. He would be there ace in the hole. What intelligence was needed now that she had a prophet in her grasp? He was the ultimate security system. But there were still holes. As he explained, the Zero system was constantly speaking to him. Sometimes Zero's voice did not whisper loudly enough for him to hear. This newtype was almost one with the machine he had been forced to use after his breaking. There was a danger in that. Gabriel took more and more liberty to do as he wished. Aria could see that the things he did were not because of his loyalty or because his desires, but simply because of what Zero told him. He would do things not because he wanted to, but because that was what he was supposed to do. The sensitive side of Aria found that sad, to slowly loose all your passion and even all your free will and to subject your life to the callings of an inner voice, even if that inner voice was never wrong. But it still seemed tragic. Eventually, he might lose everything that made him human and just be a machine carrying out his part in the present to achieve the future he saw. It was a strange fate and she wondered if perhaps Gabriel had a choice of futures to make. Maybe if he didn't act when Zero told him to, then that future wouldn't take place. But the question lay more in if Gabriel would resist the call of Zero. Aria had watched him and seen him slowly slipping away. The conditioning had been responsible for rebuilding his perception of reality according to her needs. But now he didn't even recall his own niece. Soon he probably wouldn't even know anything beyond the machine. But by that time her need of him would be gone. When Zechs came and when the Legion arrived, nothing Gabriel could do would matter.  
  
It was only a matter of time now. Nothing mattered past that.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Berlin was already mobilized by the time Aria and I reached it a week after New Years. My father had not been mistaken about the intentions of the Romafellar foundation. With our exile came the stretching arm of the Alliance. We had been lucky thus far. Our previous compliance with Romafellar coupled with the fact that the Alliance had been much engaged in the conquest of Outer Space had left us free of Alliance rule despite that we were a militarily powerful nation. Now they had come for our lands and for our resources. One way or another, Romafellar would get our Mobile Suits. When we first arrived, I was still mourning for what I had lost with Treize and for what had taken place in Lyon that last night. My father hadn't struck me hard when he reached us that last night. But because of that blow to the head I had taken against the bench earlier, his knock was just enough to subdue me completely. And so I was taken forcefully away from Lyon and from Treize, whom I was just beginning to believe in.  
  
I will spare many details about my time in the Rhineland. It is the one portion of my life that I have no wish to revisit but will do so in brief for the purpose of mental posterity. I only intend to recall bar facts and the points that are of use to me. War is best dealt with on a practical basis: take with you what you can use and leave the rest behind to rot. I know Zechs would be angry with me if I tried to explain to him that he had never really seen war, nor had Noin, Sally, the Gundam Pilots. None of them had really seen war in its basic form.  
  
War on the Rhineland was conducted as it used to be in the old centuries, without Suits, for the most part because we controlled the flow and the concentration of such weapons. The Alliance realized they had to be sparing with their Suits and since so much of their Mobile Suit resources were being used in Space, they did not expend them on our insurrection. On my father's orders, we did not use Mobile Suits in our battles in the effort to conserve them for a later use. Though I still believe that if we had expended a little resource at the beginning and wiped out the Alliance presence with our newly created line of Aries, we might have changed our destiny in the end. It wouldn't take long for the Alliance to cut off our supply of raw materials that went into making the Mobile Suits, and so all such weapons had been kept in reserve. So we were trained in old fashion warfare with guns and other munitions. War was conducted on the back of trucks, through air strikes, and on foot. It was actually very effective for the first few quarters. The Alliance had grown so used to fighting with Mobile Suits that they had lost touch with this more simplistic and antiquated approach.  
  
But with this approach came the most direct experience war can offer. Unlike the Mobile Suit combat of today where you press a button and a metal Mech disintegrates, the kind of battle we saw in Germany and other regions was the kind where you watched men ripped apart by bullets, where we could actually witness people dying stead of just hearing a yelp before static over a com link. Men lying in the dirt without legs. Boys crying for their mothers as their intestines lay sprawled over the grass beside them. The place and time where you see and feel your enemy dying as potently as that of the man who stood beside you until a piece of shrapnel landed between his eyes. It was utter chaos and no training can surmount such a surreal reality. You either made it out alive or you didn't. Either you killed or you were killed, and most of the time it was both. Yet it was this reality that my cousin Kateline thrived on.  
  
My cousin, Kateline Delizabane, was the daughter of Merrick's younger brother, whose name I never knew because he died early on and it was deemed unimportant. Kateline, whom I heard of before from Bram in conjunction with Mentescadare, had suffered from the disease longer than I had. She was five years my senior, and was outrageous in every way imaginable. No one had ever attempted to tame the girl and she had grown into an uncontrollable woman who had a lust for controlling others. As a testament to the disorder of the Rhineland Army and perhaps everyone's innate fear of her, Kateline had been made the Standing Commander of one of the largest compliment of forces in the Rhineland. It was absolutely ridiculous that she should be given command of anything. I couldn't account for why she of all people would be given such a position of power, but I learned in the time to come that my cousin would do anything to get what she wanted and because of the status of her family, and because she was inherently cunning, she usually got it. Thus, when I arrived, it became a great problem to her. With the presence of Aria and especially me, Kateline was very much outranked.  
  
The first words I associate with Berlin when I arrived are those of Kateline saying: "You are going to die out there!" as she pointed to the distance through the window. Kateline was absolutely frightening the first time I saw her and she already hated me. It was by virtue that someday I would come to command her that she so resented me. Later it would be because I had lost my fear of her and didn't take any guff. But at the time, I felt as good as dead under her hateful gaze. My father has simply dropped us off in Berlin and from the moment we arrived we were under Kateline's care. She had been told to give us positions befitting our ranks. Such subjective language gave Kateline leave to place us where ever she liked. And for her agenda, the best place was the most dangerous. When the first fighting took place, Aria and I were part of a platoon that saw 60% casualties in 48 hours.  
  
But more practical things did arise from this position of platoon obscurity. I was allowed to enroll in a medical training program, and in the Rhineland, it was learn by doing. Within two weeks of the program I was sewing up men's torsos and cauterizing bullet wounds. On not infrequent occasions, I gave men just enough Morphine to keep them numb until they finally bled to death. By my sixth month, emergency surgery was a constant and the amputations were a daily event. I had wanted to learn medicine and I surely did.  
  
Aria and I became something of silent strangers. Both of us were heavily affected by the experience of battle and constant death. In all that time we had little to say to each other. What was there to say? What could be said that would make the day any easier to live through? We only knew one thing for sure and that is the lesson I have carried every since. The truth I live by and the only thing of real value I take from that war:  
  
When you are trying to survive, everything is fair. There is no right or wrong, honor or dishonor, there is only life and the fight to keep it. You do whatever is necessary to live, even if they tell you your only job is to die. You have to win at all costs when life is on the line.  
  
I became very good at winning. We all were good at it and even learned to enjoy our work. One of my comrades in the platoon had remarked that the best way to get through the day was to find something you enjoyed in the job. Learn to like killing and you'll be the one who survives every encounter. His lesson was well learned. By May I felt agitated if a day went by that I didn't have a kill. There was a great art to it. The element of surprise was the best method for getting at least one or two kills in an attack. Staying close to the ground and only moving when they move so they can't hear you over their own footsteps. Aim for the head or at least the chest. If not, then aim for the limbs and make sure they can't shoot back. Disarmed and deceased was our policy. That's how I have always fought.  
  
During all that time in the field I never once thought of Treize, never a thought to his grand design or his rhetoric on the human will to battle or his thoughts on the perfect soldier. A blank but sharp mind was the most prudent course; it knew how to act when the bullets suddenly began to blow your company away. We sometimes toasted to the country across the sea we were serving. But mostly we were there to keep our independence from the Alliance. The change war wrought in us was as stark as the happiness that Ireland had brought me. When I wasn't out in the field with the platoon, I sometimes thought of my years in Hirumatsu's Dojo, and how I grew up there, and of more formative years at Madame Lefrey's. But now, as an experienced woman, I feel I did my real growing up in the Rhineland. My experience there, though it was easily the hardest of my life, was what helped me to survive the coming era that has led me to this bed.  
  
My time as a field medic ended in my sixth month in the war when during a routine patrol of a controlled zone we were hit by snipers and I was shot through the right shoulder. Having been shot once more since then, I can say with ease that the first time is always the worst. The officer beside me was hit in the head, and I was lucky to be saved. They brought me back to the infirmary and though I was healed quickly, I suffered a terrible fever that left me weak for several weeks. My skin took on a yellowish pallor and my once curly hair became stick straight from fever. I was thin when I went back into service and found myself reassigned to Alex Jetsie's air squadron. Alex is another man whom I don't wish to think on long, save that he was my friend and the first I ever lost. He had taken me under his wing and taught me how to survive mentally as well as physically. It was he who introduced me to all those wonderful American bands and television shows that I now prize so highly. After his death I was made captain of the squadron and by the close of the year, my services were highly recognized by the army. It was also about that time that my father ordered Kateline to give Aria and I a more appropriate rank. By that time, Kateline seemed like a walk in the park compared to active duty on the field. I wasn't afraid of her. In truth I wasn't afraid of anything and wouldn't be for a long time to come.  
  
In two year's time, I was eighteen and the second to the Commander General of all the Rhineland forces, a native German named Gundervint. He was an ex- Alliance general who had left their forces to preserve the independence of his homeland, a rather good man but a little too distant from the reality of fighting. It was with his help that I learned the German language fluently, which was necessary for any who would lead the entire armed force.  
  
The longer we fought, the more the Alliance came to understand that this was not an insurrection that could be swept away as easily as the colonies. In April, when by virtue of my honors and of my family name, I was named the Rhineland Army's First Lady of War (Zuerst Dame Von Krieges), the Alliance began implementing Mobile Suits in their attacks. We responded in kind and as head of the Army (though still under my father's direct orders) we were effective in wiping the Alliance out in almost every battle with minimal losses in our own superior suits. It wasn't so much due to my leadership as it was that we had the better weaponry. Being a High Commander in the Army was not something I enjoyed. My first year had given me a feeling of constant danger and the only ease I felt was when I destroyed an enemy. Not being on the field meant that I only ordered killing, but did not personally partake in fighting. It was difficult for the first months not to kill someone whenever I was frustrated or scared. It was what I had been taught to do, and I was good at it. Besides that, I felt it was ridiculous to place a woman of only eighteen in charge of an entire army. But the fashion of the world was becoming one of young leadership, and the army had such faith in me that I could never refuse them.  
  
Aria was given a title as well, via her own promotion. They called her "Expedition Storm" for her talent at carrying out efficient secondary missions that lead to successful attacks. Kateline had long held the title of "Huntress" for her brutal if not effective tactics. Though by the time I became the First Lady I had no trouble in dealing with Kateline's raving behavior, I still had to pacify her every now and then. When we had prisoners who were to be executed upon arrival, I allowed Kateline to perform the execution right there on the battlefield. She would have the enemies dragged out of their destroyed or disabled suits, and shot before her eyes. As much as I disapproved of the malice, I understood her need for it. Everyday I felt the need to see my enemy destroyed in front of me so that I would know he couldn't shoot me when I turned my back.  
  
In AC 192, the Alliance took a new strategy against our rebellion. At this point we held all the Eastern side of the Rhineland and portions of Northern France. The West was secure with the Military prowess of the Isle holding off all attacks against the Islands of Britain. The Former United States, or the North Columbian/American Continent, as the Alliance had long ago dubbed it, was still not under our control. But we had to worry about holding our current lands before ever freeing North America from the Alliance strangle hold. If matters became critical, it was in my power and my responsibility to call in the American Legion. Supposedly the American Legion would be able to surmount any enemy, even one that controlled almost the whole of the planet and space. I had my doubts, but I did keep in regular contact with William Washington, who never advised me either way about calling in him as a reserve. But he advised me on other issues and strategies. In this unsure time I needed objective opinions from someone who wasn't afraid of contradicting my father and who understood that I was not the great general everyone wished me to be.  
  
"Take your father's orders, but be sure that they coincide with your own instincts" he would advise me. My father did not often interject with his orders, as long as we were winning. This was good for us because my father was rather inept at military strategy. Merrick had a talent for commanding men on an individual basis, but not on a massive scale. That was my job. However, Merrick was the one who informed me that the Alliance was changing strategy. I was just eighteen when the intelligence was delivered that the Alliance was done expending resources on this war. They were sending in a different branch to 'handle' the British insurgence.  
  
In December AC 192, the Alliance ordered the Specials Forces to take over operations in the Rhineland. Nearly two years after I had left Lyon, I would meet Treize Khushrenada again. This time on the battlefield.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
AN: A lot of Tencho-babble in this chapter. Forgive me. I tried to make the science as plausible as possible, since I don't want to invent my own science in order to explain everything away. I think there is enough that goes unexplained in this story already. Just bear with it and suspend your disbelief where necessary. Thanks ^_~ 


	13. Replacement

All standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 12

_"Left to die with only friend, alone I clench my gun"_

_~James Hetfield_

            A book flew in her direction as soon as Hildre walked into the first floor Study where she had been told by a member of the house staff that Zechs could be found. The book, a hard cover, crashed against the wall next to the door and made Hildre put her hands up in defense. But almost immediately she put them down as she saw Zechs crouched over a pile of books, examining the title for a few seconds and then throwing them over his shoulder in slipshod fashion. For a moment she decided to just stay quiet and watch him. A few feet away from him she noted the table where a decanter of dark liquid and a half filled glass sat. Around the room were stacks of other books precariously lying on the edge of various tables, ready to topple with the slightest disturbance. Zechs himself could be heard mumbling the titles of the books he read and with each one there would follow a negative "No, no, definitely not". He repeated words and deeds for several moments before Hildre became bored and called his attention to her with a small cough.

            "You better not be sick. I don't want any more viruses or mucus in this house" he warned gently, still not stopping his searching process. He looked at every book as if it would be the exact title he searched for. Hildre assured him that she was in perfect health and asked after the children politely. She noticed that Zechs was in another strange mood. He seemed almost cheerful as he trudged knee-deep in the written word.

"What are you looking for?" she asked, skillfully dodging a book that flew blindly at her head.

"Not sure, I'll let you know when I find it."

"Is this your usual morning ritual, tearing through a sea of books at the crack of dawn?" Hildre immodestly hopped up on a table and made herself comfortable, pulling slightly at the collar of her Preventer uniform.

"Is it now your morning ritual to visit me in the early hours? People are going to think we are messing around, Little Girl." Zechs clicked his tongue in mock shame. It made Hildre think back to what Tenacious had said earlier in the car. These sorts of visits would incite just those kinds of rumors. 

"You love to flatter yourself, Zechs" she chuckled at him. Zechs turned around and sat Indian-style while pulling forward a stack of previously un-reviewed books. He smiled at her through his concentration.

"I don't flatter myself. Women fall in two categories with me, fear and love. And as it is I know of only three or four women in the world who _aren't_ afraid of me."

"Sally isn't afraid of you. You think she is crazy in love? Because after the way she yelled at you earlier this week, I wouldn't bet on it." Hildre had been hard pressed on that occasion not to laugh when Sally had let loose on Zechs about the disinfectant spray incident. Zechs had looked like a chagrined little boy and Hildre would have paid to have had a camera on her to get proof of the expression. Hildre clicked her tongue back at Zechs and folded her arms. Zechs huffed at her and then smirked.

"Sally is a lesbian"

Hildre's jaw dropped. Zechs practically jumped out of his sitting position into a standing one, bending over briefly to put the pile of books on the table beside her. He slapped his hands musically several times against the table top.

"That leaves you, Anne, and her demented sister. In love with me, the lot of you. I can't say I blame you, though."

"Now wait a second. What makes you think-" she began to say but stopped when Zechs tapped his temple and smiled with that same strange cheerfulness. 

"Zechs knows all" he moved towards the door, Hildre followed after, suspecting that he had had a vision. Something had to be responsible for this sarcastic but chipper behavior. Zechs was almost being… funny?

"Well, what makes you think that Anne is in love with you? I mean she is not really here to affirm or deny your claims, is she? And all you two ever did before was fight." She asked as Zechs started speed walking down the hall. Hildre had to jog to keep up with him. Every few doors he would open up and look inside. What was he looking for?

"I can't get into it, Little Girl. It's too grown up for your ears. I'll tell you all my dirty secrets some other day." He was clearly bullshitting, but half of Hildre was delighted with this new side to Zechs. It came startlingly close to the humorous charisma she loved in Duo.

"Now, Miss Preventer Hildre, do you have something to report to me at this early hour? Or would you rather we just went right to the bedroom and put all the rumors to rest?" he said as they reached the office he had converted from Lady Une's to his own.

"Zechs Merquise!  I am astonished at you!" Hildre set her hands on her hips as Zechs set himself in the chair behind the desk. "I'm not sure I like this sudden change in personality."

"Well then it's a good thing my personality doesn't depend on your approval. I would never get anywhere in that scenario. Now, REPORT!" he abruptly barked and Hildre found herself immediately falling into line while Zechs sat behind his desk, amused. She thought, as she delivered the report of the HERF theory, that if Zechs wasn't at least three times her size she would be kicking his ass right about now. Be that as it may, Hildre still respected him as her commanding officer and a good friend, one that she needed. She wouldn't let him make a regular habit out of it, but if this slight sexual harassment meant that he was finally putting an end to his long-lived depression, she could deal. But just for good measure, she concluded her report with a brief summary of the ESUN's statute on Sexual Harassment in the workplace. Zechs listened patiently, and to Hildre's awe, he began laughing, quite hard. It was an expression completely foreign to Zechs and she had never seen him so . . .happy?

"Alright, this all works out well. Let the boys work on their Frequencies. We can train in the meantime. I realize now that our situation isn't as dire as it was last night."

"Why is that Commander? From where I stand we are still short a very crucial advantage?"

"I don't mean to say that it is going to be easy, Hildre. This is going to be a damn tough fight. I don't know what losses we will sustain in this endeavor. I only know what losses we won't sustain. And that has given me the hope I need."

Hildre thought on that for a moment and observed her commander. His eyes shined as they shined when he would look at Tallgeese III, something he admired and yet could control. It was something that was his and something that he could keep, something that he secretly understood and cherished. But she knew this was not about Tallgeese. Hildre furrowed her brow as she worked out a theory.

"You saw her, didn't you?" He must have had a vision. Zechs nodded profoundly and half smiled.

"She, at least, will be coming home" he prophesized.

"Is there any chance that it could turn out otherwise? I mean, I've been thinking about these vision things you have been having. Is there a chance that you knowing the future could change the outcome? And you said you think that the Zero system did this to you; you've been having episodes since the first Eve War. Heero Yuy was also exposed to the Zero System for a long time just like you. What about him? Is he one of the others who can 'see'?" Hildre paced in front of his desk working out these possibilities, turning it over in her head like a puzzle. 

"Indeed he is. But I think he Sees about as well as I do. Heero had roughly the same exposure to Zero as I. But then there is Gabriel. That was Epyon he was piloting that day they took Anne and Relena. He is most certainly being exposed to it now but I have no idea to what extent. It could be that Gabriel's ability far exceeds my own or that of Heero. Gabriel is a variable, a free-radical, and one that lingers on our enemy's side." 

"But, as to the first portion of your question, it is complicated. I think the future could turn out different ways. The future is like . . .mises-en-abyme. It's sometimes like holding two mirrors together, there are infinite reflections. But what I have seen has always been mysterious, usually a hundred images at once. Perhaps I was seeing multiple futures and only one of them came to be, or perhaps I was just seeing many parts of a single future that is inevitable. But I will tell you one thing. I have seen Anne die more than once during these . . . very painful episodes. Yet last night I dreamed of her and she was very much alive. I bled through the dream and so I know it was not just the workings of my own subconscious. It was the future. I have never had a vision like that before, where it seemed for a few moments I was literally in the future. I heard voices clear as day instead of just unsteady images and disconnected sound bytes tearing through my brainstem." Zechs put the pads of his fingers together and looked ponderous. Hildre vocalized her misgivings.

"If it differs so greatly from all the other visions then it sounds like it might be just a dream Zechs, a dream that you bled through. From the way you have been acting today I think it must have been a very good dream. However, perhaps . . . it was just a manifestation of your wishful thinking. I can see everyday how much you love them and want to bring them home. But something about this doesn't sound right, Zechs. It sounds too irregular and too good to be true."

Zechs was silent. It might be that he had his own personal doubts about the vision/dream. Hildre felt a twinge of guilt at possibly sweeping away whatever hopes he had found in the last twelve hours. But if there were to go into battle, they needed accurate information. Zechs was only so accurate as it was, and he still refused to tell anyone what he knew of Anne's involvement with this family and what their plans were. He closed his eyes and pressed the palms of his hands together, as if in prayer and whispered softly "It was the future" and when he opened his eyes they still shined. He was not giving up on what little hope he had found. Hildre found despite her hesitations that she liked this. It was another strange twist of personality that he was holding to one thing. In Zechs' well understood history, he had never been a man that held to any one thing for long. He had never been a man of conviction. But perhaps the weather was finally changing. Still, Hildre decided that she would believe it when she saw it. He might very well change his stripes in a few weeks or even hours. Statistics were against him.

"What about the High . . .Frequency… thingy?"

"Go with it. It's all we have. Maybe there will be a miracle of some kind and we will find the working frequency."

"Ten told me in the car that since they are aiming for high frequency, it's possible that our weapons might not be able to generate that height." Hildre added, loathing to keep up this trend of discouragement. She wasn't made of optimistic timber, at least not anymore.

"One bridge at a time, Little Girl. We have plenty others to cross right now. I think it's time we called Quatre back. I want as many Gundam Pilots as possible on hand when we are ready." 

"Are you planning on taking the Gundam Pilots on the attack?"

Zechs smiled through his answer. "Only a fool would let Gundam Pilots wander around to act as they choose. They always manage to involve themselves in these kinds of matters and _this_ time, I will make sure they involve themselves on my side."

* * * * * * * * * *   
  


            Many decades ago they had dammed portions of the Elbe River in order to stop flooding and damage to the towns and cities that lay on its banks. In the early years, the mass construction had aided a slumping economy by creating new employment opportunity, both for damn workers and the towns that soon found new resources from the hydro-electricity the dams generated. The dried sections of the riverbed created by the dam became settlements that benefited from a restructuring in the River's course along several areas of eastern Germany. The regular flooding along these new courses following the completion of the Dam Project affected agricultural areas that mostly benefited from the rising waters, much like that of the Nile River of Egypt. Unfortunately, in later years, the Dam Project became a hazard, as war and lack of funds left poor maintenance for the dams. They started to deteriorate and show signs of age. Up keep of the dams was expensive and the electrical resource negated by a number of wars that cut off electrical power so frequently that the surrounding population learned not to depend on it. By the turn of the first century AC, these dams were more like mass tombstones whose generators had broken down and whose only living purpose was to hold back the Elbe from its natural course along the now inhabited river bed. It was not the best place to make battle, but an ample location for a headquarter compound.

            You could see the Wittenberge Dam in the distance from the encampment that our forces had erected on a large tor just east of the riverbed dale. The raised elevation afforded us a mighty view to detect attacks from all four directions. Only several months before I had been called down to this Sachsen portion of Germany from Bremen, where we had won several key victories against Alliance Dead-Enders in the city that continued resistance. Berlin was safely ours as was much of the northeastern border of the land. Our trouble was coming from Dresden and the more southeastern portion of Sachsen, near the Czech/Polish border. Intelligence had reported that the Alliance Specials Forces were being called in, and when Aria summoned me there, they had already started to cross the Spree River and take towns along the western side of the river, moving closer to the Elbe. Aria and I called it the "River Campaign", as both our forces and that of the enemy sought to take control of the water flow. Expedition Storm, whose forces were further down south on the Elbe from Wittenberge, closer to the Mittellandkanal that bisects the Elbe near Braunschweig, had encountered two divisions of the Specials and dubbed them quite formidable. Much of our concentrated force was brought south of the Wittenberge Dam at that point. I remained there with an adequate accord of forces, having been relegated at this point to a strategic capacity rather than active combat, for which I had quite a unique gift. Aria held the south for many weeks before reporting that the enemy was using 'trickle tactics', giving the illusion that they had little to fight with despite having good ability. The Specials first attacks, which had ended in a massacre for them simply because of the unequal numbers, were all but suicide missions to fool our perceptions. As the weeks drew on, the Specials attacked in increasing numbers and I saw early on that if the trend continued, we would be swiftly overwhelmed by this continuous supply of fresh suits and troops. Their resource seemed to be an inexhaustible host of very well trained men and advanced Mobile Suit technology that could possibly rival that of the Isle. But the strength of their suits, though not always on par with our own, was increased by the ability of the soldiers themselves. The Specials Forces were highly disciplined and far more competent in strategy and execution than the complacent Alliance divisions we had easily overwhelmed. 

            Because of these trials and the time they took up, I was never able to visit the actual city of Wittenberge, but was only ever able to look at it from the distance from my quarters on the tor base. From the elevation of the headquarters, one could see for miles. But in actuality there was little to really look at. Your eyes would likely focus on the forest that lay on the far western bank of the old riverbed, further down south there were a number of smaller towns that had been built within the riverbed. To the northeast were the glittering lights of Wittenberge, and of course, to the direct northwest of us, lay the Wittenberge Dam. I found myself staring at it on many nights when I couldn't sleep. Being now something like a General in this army, I was afforded very comfortable quarters in which I took no comfort at all. Twenty months of platoon life had left me with a taste for sleeping on the floor, and a bed wouldn't do anymore. So on rare occasions when I did sleep, it was on the carpet beside my bed. But usually at night, I was out on the newly built terrace, staring out at the Dam.

It was late December now, and very cold. Snow had long carpeted the riverbed, causing an eerie stillness to pervade across the land. If the winds were right, the sound of car horns from far off Wittenberge might reach our ears on the hill. Night was particularly unsettling. The snow on the darkened landscape glittered in the moonlight and made the riverbed valley beneath us seem like the earth was caste in silver. The stillness remained, however if your ears were sharp, you would hear a distant and low churning sound coming from the Dam, sounding almost like the calmed sea lapping at Dover's limestone cliffs. In warmer months over the edge of the tor, gray usually prevailed before the morning sun helped the dell to a steady green marked with rocky trails and roads. But in December, everything was monochromatic, white, the absence of color, the absence of conscience and feeling. As I said, an ample place for our headquarters.

It was in the infant hours of the morning, slouched out on the makeshift terrace outside my quarters, wrapped in the standard issue gray woolen blanket from my bed with my breath heavy and misty before my face that I thought of Treize Khushrenada for the first time in two years. I was surprised with myself that there had been no thought of him after the war broke out. It seemed like he had masked my every thought for those brief weeks prior. Not surprising was the feeling, or more appropriately the lack of feeling my remembrance of him inspired. But such was the case with most things in my memory. It was a stretch to say that most of his grandiose words and ideals lingered in my limited memory of him. All the events of my time with him seemed like dull images playing on a screen behind my eyes, gray toned and misty, as blank in sentiment as the snow. The only thing I guess I felt at that time was cold, cold like in the moment after he shoved my head into a stone bench. But it was likely just the cold of the Rhineland that I felt, the cold of the war and the stillness of the world. 

I folded my hands before me, rubbing them slightly; breathing cold breath on them. Still they were chilled as if they were made from the frozen gray dirt of the dell floor beneath the snow below us. I took down my hair, which was extremely long at this point and even turning prematurely gray in some places and let it fall along my neck to bar the night chill. Straight hair was not as useful in keeping my head warm as my impenetrable curls had once been. I shivered still, straining to hear the churning of the Elbe on the other side of the Dam, standing sentinel like in my immediate view of the northern horizon. My thoughts lingered on Treize for a small time after that, wondering where he was and what he had ended up doing. Had his family and associates cast him out yet as a lunatic? Perhaps he was better now, perhaps he was much worse. It didn't matter anymore. I let him go with both hands and let my thoughts linger on nothing. The coldness was eased with our spectral parting. A nightly ritual of mine was to empty my head of all thoughts and let myself be nothing for a short time before reality would call me back and remind me that I was something. I felt neither guilt, nor pain, nor relief, nor passion. I felt like the snow, blank and cold, and surviving through my brief time.

The churning was low tonight. I couldn't hear it clearly enough to have the dull drone lull me and so I went back inside, settling on the floor beside my bed with just the blanket. The second part of my nightly ritual was mnemonic. I repeated to myself basic facts that I tended to forget as a way of countering the Mentescadere that sometimes compromised me. It was embarrassing at its best, and deadly at its worst. Once or twice I had treated a subordinate of mine like a commanding officer. I had forgotten that I was now the First Lady of War and not a low ranking Field Medic of a lowly platoon. My condition was not public knowledge, and so the incident was politely ignored by the two subordinates involved. I had remarked to Aria on the last time we saw one another that the condition, in traumatic circumstances, might be in part a blessing. When and if we made it through this war, I would be more than capable of forgetting that it ever happened. If I couldn't rid myself of this mental circumstance, I would at least make the best use of it. Such practicality was a key step in survival.

Sleep did not come but the cold kept me company as I slowly repeated the names of myself, my family members, my lieutenants, my countries, the necessities of my life. The sky outside was turning from navy to azure with the approaching cold dawn. I would have to be in counsel early to hear reports of the Eastern fold where the enemy was concentrating attacks. That was in less than two hours now and I was without a moment of sleep to my night. In fact, I was still in my uniform, save for the jacket. My boots held fast to my feet and legs twisted around the blanket. I turned on my side and breathed out, startled to see a hint of mist before my eyes. The room was cold too. Everything was touched by the gray chill. Still, it was infinitely more comfortable than frozen mud clinging to your extremities as you sleep with your face in the iced over dirt.

            I rose, regretting sleep and settling on a whore's bath before I replaced my jacket and went out to the cafeteria for what little food I could manage to eat. Hot showers and lavish breakfasts didn't occur to me anymore. They seemed excessive and I didn't take to excess. The small kitchen cafeteria was sparsely staffed and thinly populated at this hour. They had some soft apples and dried bread that I thought I could manage. Coffee was a saving grace that I afforded myself. The one luxury I could manage. It was not lost on me that I was doing myself more harm than good. After all, I was a medic with ample knowledge of the body's need and how I was not fulfilling them food or sleep wise. It didn't change my habits at the time. The hot soups that would be available for breakfast were still an hour or so from being ready and the smell, though fragrant enough on other occasions, turned my stomach this morning. I took my modest accord of food and coffee, waved off the few men in the cafeteria who stood and saluted at my passing, and found a spot next to the heater. The soldiers watched me, though they attempted to be subtle about it. They must have been new I thought and shocked at the lack of regality I displayed. The rest of the army had been fed grand stories of the Ladies Delizabane and their imperious elegance as High Commanders, but I was in no way interested in strengthening that popular mythology by being anything other than what I was, which was just a wearier version of the common soldier. It was my job to lead them, not inspire them with pretense. Perhaps that was and is my failing as a leader. But one of my only remaining moral convictions was that I didn't hold to lying and I avoided it when it wasn't absolutely necessary for my survival. As I stated before, when life is at stake, all morality and honor are useless. I don't regret that. In fact, I still hold to it in cases were I deem my life to be of enough value, which in the present is a fluctuating circumstance. 

            I ate in silence, as I always did. The activity around me began to pick up as the kitchens became alive and more men entered the dining hall to receive their morning meal. All who saw me paid a respect, which I usually acknowledged by a slight inclination of the head. I indulged this morning by taking a second cup of naked coffee. I was halfway through it when one of the more familiar faces among my staff appeared at the doorway and scanned the crowd, undoubtedly looking for me. He was one of the men who would come to wake me in the morning, an attendant of sorts. Today must have been his turn and he seemed quite haggard at having an irregularity because of my strange movements. Seeing me, he scurried over and bowed. I groaned and blandly motioned for him to be at ease. He stammered some apology to me and I could see that he was plainly worried, by me or maybe just the situation. This piqued me some, as I had never seen any reason for me to be feared in this army. I rose and let him accompany me to the counsel room where I could get reports from my Colonels and Lieutenants, all of whose names I was silently repeating to myself as we went, lest I forget them yet again. My attendant was fiercely irritating, behaving as if he was about to keel over from nervousness. I asked him what his problem was and he blabbered some obvious lie about being alright. I thought perhaps he was new to service and asked him his name and age. He responded that his name was Kertsein and he was twenty five. I snorted, telling him that he was almost seven years older than me and shaking like a leaf beside a child. The young man seemed to cool at that and commented more freely that he thought I was older than he and was amazed that I could be so young. I responded with some choppy comment about how those who fight in a war age quickly because they may not live to see naturally gray hair.

            By the time we reached the counsel room, I was actually hungry again, and not sated by the small breakfast I had. The room was circular and very sterile looking. Kateline was the only one among the commanding staff that ever demanded décor. I was of the opinion that our bases were not places of state, and so they need only contain utilitarian comforts. No plants, no paintings or wall hangings, unless they be maps of the area, I was not in the business of inspiring through artistic flare and in general, I had little to no use for inspiration as all of it seemed to me at that point a ploy. Ploys were what we used against the enemy, not on each other. In any case, the room was circular. We used windows to illuminate the room in order to conserve electricity for the evening alone. To this end, a skylight had been installed in the ceiling. Electric light was used only from dusk until sunrise. We did keep coffee and a small refrigerator handy to save time. Time was the only thing we tried to conserve more than electricity. 

            My counselors were already at work at the center table which held maps. In Bremen we had used a _holo__-table that provided three-dimensional projections of topographical maps. Half of the time the damn machine broke down and with none of us being engineers we were unable to get it working again on our own. Not one to repeat mistakes, we did not install one here. So the table was overflowing with a variety of paper maps. They spilled over the sides and unrolled to the floor. I had tripped on them half a dozen times. The set up was old fashioned but effective, more so than that inconstant technology.  I entered and ignored the flurry of salutes, working my way to the small refrigerator and coffee machine, intent on filling my cup and scoping the scenery. The group at the table was silently watching me as I leafed through the contents of the refrigerator. It took me a few seconds to become aware of the silence, as they were usually all trying to give me reports and developments at the same time. Behind a jar of jam, I found a small bowl of chocolate pudding. One of my lieutenants cleared his throat._

"Excuse me, Ma'am?"

"Whose pudding is this?" I asked, still focused on the fridge and holding the bowl above my head. No one committed.

"If no one is going to claim it, I will" I responded to the silence, rising and going on a search for a spoon. Finally, something I could stomach until dinner time forced me to eat again. I found my spoon and with bowl, spoon, and coffee all juggled together, I went to the table.

"Well good morning, good morning. What is the situation today?" I started looking at the maps they were pining over, sipping my coffee. No one answered again and so I started looking over things myself. There were markings all over the Potsdam.

"What's this?"

"The Specials took it last night." A woman across from me stated. I looked at her and tried to remember her name. Damn it, I was drawing a complete blank. 

"That's less than one hundred and thirty kilometers away." I clicked my tongue and hovered over the maps, still trying to remember that girl's name. It was on the tip of my tongue. Finally, it came to me a few seconds later. The girl was Aria, my own sister.

Hell, but I covered it up nicely.

"Well, since I assume you are here for that purpose, report the situation."  

Aria wasn't fooled and I could tell it by the way she quirked her eyebrow at me as she described the basics of the situation in Potsdam. I listened and spooned the pudding, nodding where appropriate and hoped that Aria might right off my behavior as eccentric instead of forgetful. The Specials had pushed north to Cottbus with a mass force and invades Brandenburg yesterday afternoon. The Isle forces there, having felt secure in their holding of the northwest portion of the Spree and Brandenburg had been overwhelmed. By midnight Potsdam had fallen to the Specials. They were now starting aerial surveillance of the western country, coming dangerously close to Wittenburge. Finishing my pudding as she finished her report, I picked up a black felt marker and began drawing the line on the map.

"We need accurate reports as to how far north they are venturing. Battle plans should not be made on initial reports. However, action is needed. We can't sit and wait for the Specials to find this base. An attack on our infrastructure would be a hard blow. Bring the forces that are concentrated in south Sachsen before the Mittellandkanal and bring them here. Watch the sky and shoot down any Specials reconnaissance that you detect." I drew the line of the march for the troops; most could get here within a day. They could settle in the nearest town not three miles south across the undulated landscape. 

"That still leaves an opening here, and here along the Magdeburg course. The occupation would be too thin there to hold off any attack" This from a Colonel to my left. I loved figuring out these puzzles. It was like playing a more simplified yet important game of chess.

"Then move the western forces here in Hessen to compensate. We have full compliments there and if we hold them in the east then there is no need to worry about the west just yet."

"I suggest you put the American Legion on standby, Leecy" said Aria to my irritation. I did not like her using my name during counsel meetings. It was inappropriate conduct for a subordinate even if she was my sister. Furthermore, I was irritated with the mention of the American Legion.

"I see no reason for that action, Colonel."

"What about the Calypso line?"

"Still in preliminary development, we won't see them for at least a year and a half if ever."

We worked the problem most of the day and into the early evening, using the reports that came in to chart a more appropriate course of action. The southern divisions arrived and after dinner Aria would return to where they were making their encampment next to the nearest town in the riverbed. We went to the dinning hall afterwards where Aria proceeded to fill my plate past the capacity of my stomach. She sat across from me and watched me sternly as I attempted to eat at least two percent of what she had set down. Her choices were lousy ones as well and after a few moments I pushed the plate aside.

"You need to eat." She warned.

"The day I allow you to play nurse maid to me will be the day I am bound to a wheelchair and unable to feed myself."

"Well with the exception of the wheelchair, you are almost there. Eat."

"Fuck off."

"Such a lady we are tonight."

"I dropped the lady act two years ago in Lyon."

Aria ceased her attempts at caretaking, though they were lovingly meant. Instead she leaned into me and resumed business. I stared into her plate and concentrated on the colors of the mixed foods. In my mind's eye I traveled the landscape of the east, tracking my enemy like a ranger of old. 

"They could make an atmospheric attack, drop on us from above." She offered. But I shook my head, having worked that out long ago.

"We are well protected from that by satellite. They would be detected and shot down before they could reach the lower atmosphere."

"What about from the west?"

"They can't reach us from that side without running into an occupied area. Unless they mount a tremendous force to overrun one of our more thinly occupied areas. But despite their vast divisions, they can't have enough to coordinate such an attack on two sides. I don't care what the probabilities are. No force could muster that quality of soldier in that quantity, especially not in such a short time. Five years time perhaps, not in two."

"I still think you should tell General Washington to muster the Legion. If we should be overtaken, that additional force could mean the difference between defeat and victory."

"I have no intention of calling the Legion in. Not now, not ever." This was something I had decided a long time ago. I sipped my water. Aria stopped chewing.

"What? Why?" It was emphatic.

"I . . . don't want to cause trouble for them. I don't want to bring them into war. William and I have been speaking often during these last months. I still believe in the cause of helping that country to reclaim what it lost. But . . . I don't see how. How can anyone resist this Alliance? They have taken over all the Colonies and most of the world. What chance does the forgotten glory of America have against such an encompassing power? Stirring the Legion, their only defense, would only incur the wrath of the Alliance. No, Aria. I will not call upon them to aid us in our long defeat. I will not drag them into this mess Merrick has created. If the Alliance comes and takes us, then that is regrettable. But I will not suffer to see my dream since I was old enough to have one destroyed by the arrogance of my father. America must rise by other means than war. I am young, but I see that clearly. Calling for their aid would ensure it would never rise again. My duty, if ever I believed in it, lies in protecting them before protecting my family, second only to my duty to protect you."

Aria shook her head and looked back down at her plate, making to eat again "You have no duty to protect me."

"Not so, not so at all, little Doll. It was the only duty that I took for myself. No one ever forced it upon me. It's my place to look after you and to see that you are kept safe as much as I can. Why do you think I kept Kateline on the Spree and you in the South? Whatever your talent in war, I won't place you at the front to be blown to pieces when I would easily see Kateline there in your place. Call that ineffective leadership, call it personal manipulation. I will submit in either case. But never will I willfully send you into danger if I can help it. And in war, I can help it only a very little." I answered smoothly in our native tongue.

Aria looked at me, and then around to see who immediately looked on. Then quickly she grasped my hand and spoke in a desperate, low tone. "You don't need to protect me. But please don't ever forget about me. Whether we make it out of this or not, if everything else should one day pass from your mind, please always remember me. You are the only person in this world I love and I would rather be dead than forgotten by you. I am not afraid of dying. Already I feel I have died a hundred times since we came here. But I am terrified that you will look at me one day and not know me, or know me and willfully turn away from me. Please, Leecy, never forget who I am, who we both are." She released my hand and began eating again, so that no one would see what had passed between us. After three bites in silence, she rose from the table with her plate, dropped it in the dish pan at the front, and departed the headquarters for the nearby encampment. A part of me was relieved that she left when she did. I never wanted to admit that I had already forgotten her once this very afternoon. I think perhaps she suspected it. Aria was very clever and could read me very well. But suspecting and having it confirmed were two separate things. I couldn't forget her again.

The next morning, we had an early ceremony to honor those lost at Potsdam and promised justice through victory. I don't think anyone found me sincere in that promise. We all knew that war is just war, void of justice in most cases. But it was a common thing to honor the distant dead since we could not properly bury them. It was part of my duty as well, as the First Lady of War to view battlefields where corpses that had not been yet buried or burned lay at the site of their deaths. It was like something out of very old non-digital photograph that depicted the old wars in Europe and it the stench was overpowering. On one occasion when touring the fields, I had actually found shells on the ground that were not from our guns but from guns shot over five centuries earlier. It gave me that same cold feeling that Treize did. I hated these ceremonies, but not with any passion. 

Aria was there and the only communication we had between each other was a moment when we stood together after the proceedings. She was feeling empty, I could sense it. Aria had manners about her that subtly indicated her mood, even though she was well schooled in hiding such emotions. Her left hand shook slightly and she wouldn't meet my eyes. I stared straight out and spoke these last words, trying to lighten her spirits.

"Do you remember that young man you danced with before Christmas, Zechs was his name I think? When you feel as you do now, think of him and those brief moments and how they made you feel. Remember how you felt and know that one day you'll feel that way again. As for me, I'll remember you, and Ireland, and I'll not excuse myself for anything I've done before or since then."

Late in the afternoon, Aria's troops were setting up perimeter defenses and such while I was on the phone with one of the colonels based in Strasbourg occupying the actual Rhine River. Apparently my father was once again giving orders over my head and sending the troops North East toward our position. This greatly disturbed me as it left us open on the West front. But I could not override the authority of my father in this army. He was the 'Great Benefactor' who had made this war possible and the deluded forced respected his rule and coveted his promises of glory. Yes, thank you, Dad. You made this war possible by refusing the Alliance in anger and sending an entire nation out to die for it. And people fell for it the same well the fell for the idea that I was some child prodigy who would lead them to victory like Joan of Arc. Even back in those days the masses were easy to convince, and that still hasn't changed. The masses believe in me now in AC 203 as much as they did in AC 191. I have even heard that one of the Colonies submitted a request to the Vatican to have me canonized as a Saint. Ridiculous!  It is just as ridiculous that the world should spontaneously revere a sixteen year old girl as Queen of the World and allow her to dissolve all their national borders. The world is made up of equal parts of fools and idealists, each one playing off the other in a flurry of destructive idiocy. All you have to do is tell them what they want to hear in a dramatic tone with lots of big words wedged in and they are caught. Give the people the impression we are moving ahead, that progress is being made, that the world is going to work for them, and they will be yours to make either sleep or cheer. It is that way now, and it was that way then.

I was in the middle of this very rant to my colonel in Strasbourg when then communication fluctuated and died. I tried several times to reestablish the connection, and then to establish any kind of connection but the signal was down. Huffing, I went out outside my office and began complaining to one of my under secretaries when I saw that all the communicators were down. This was not at all good. It meant that the satellite was out or possibly destroyed. The satellites had been very well guarded, but nothing was ever perfectly secure. We spent the next hour reestablishing our communication links via a secondary satellite that wasn't as reliable as our primary one. Once reconnected, I called back to Strasbourg and received no answer. I called several times to be sure. I ordered the Lieutenant on hand to put a call into other concentrated areas for status reports. We tried contacting Bremen, Erfurt, Metz, and Nurnberg. We found no answer at any of them. It was concluded that the satellite malfunction had probably affected the rest of the bases, and that they were reestablishing their own links. But something about this didn't sit well with me. Knowing that my family manor would use a regular communication satellite, I called there to make sure of things. On my screen the link was established and waited for a response. I waited what seemed like too long, my apprehension growing with every passing second. Finally the screen buzzed to life and I saw a little hand appear before Shireen lifted her face.

"Hullo, who is it?"

My heart was lightened by her small face, already so grown since Ireland.

"Shireen, it's Leecy. I want to speak to Bram. Can you get Bram for me?" 

"Bram is downstairs with father."

"Please get him for me."

"I'm not supposed to answer the Ringer. If I tell him he will know. Don't get me in trouble, Leecy."

"Shireen. You won't get in trouble. Just let me talk to Bram." I tried to keep my voice non-threatening.

"But he's mad already. He's yelling." There was yelling indeed. I could hear the faint rise and fall of harsh tones over the speaker. Someone in the house was fuming. What was going on?

"Are you coming home, Leecy?" Shireen asked.

"Shireen, if you don't get Bram or father now, you _will_ be in trouble." I warned her. Shireen immediately started to whimper.

"Don't tell on me!" she pleaded.

"Shireen!" 

But my little sister banged her hand on the keyboard and broke the connection in her apprehension. I tried to make a call back, but there was nothing. By this time I was frustrated, feeling that something was not right. My last thought was to perhaps call William Washington, but I decided against it. Instead, I folded the communicator down and thought. In such a deep thought, my ears picked up a distant sound; a low humming that was growing louder. I groaned as I imagined that the Strasbourg forces that my father had deployed eastward to our location had already arrived. I rose and looked to the window, watching the large convoy approach. They were dark against the sky. Then my heartbeat quickened as they came closer and my thoughts went rapidly. The deployed troops would be coming from the western sky. This convoy was coming from the east, the wrong direction. I hadn't had any report of a large convoy coming in from the east. We needed all our eastern troops staying in their locations to fight off the Specials. No convoy was sent to us without my approval. Perhaps this was another one of my father's spontaneous orders. If they were enemies we would have known it. The detection sensors would have picked up an enemy aircrafts or mobile suits. 

Unless the Satellite had knocked them out too. 

Too slowly I made out the shape of both aircraft and Mobile Suits taking formation, not in preparation to land. People were just starting to yell warnings of immediate attack when I ran out of my office, giving the order to sound the alarm. Within thirty seconds, the sounds of explosions could be heard and the Special Forces insignia clearly seen on the enemy suits and jets. The jets flew over our compound on the high tor while the suits proceeded toward Aria's encampment. That was all I saw for the time. Inside we braced ourselves for the bombing. The building shook under the barrage of fire power from the jets, windows blew out, people screamed. Several Lieutenants scrambled to security sheds that were furnished with firearms. Everyone was given a gun for the siege. Overhead we could hear battle raging about the compound and in the distance. Aries fought above us, shooting down the enemy jets and taking on the Specials' own airborne suits. Several people reported seeing a line of Alliance Leos marching toward the encampment. How big was the force? Could Aria hold them off? 

Inside, my people were holding it together as best they could. The base troops had made it to the bunker and were also airborne, engaged in the battle. It was from their reports that we learned that only 20% of Aria's encamped troops were deployed. Many of the others had been critically hit by the initial bombing. A huge section of the bunker had also been destroyed on the western side and our building was on fire. We couldn't win if Aria couldn't muster the majority of her force! I made a fast decision and ran back to my office. Perhaps there was still enough time to connect to New York. 

The connection was painfully slow, and I was frantic. I watched the connection bar slowly fill to green, all the while questioning my decision. Had I not resolved to never call the American Legion into this? Had anything changed that would alter their fate should they come? I would still be condemning them. Deep down I knew we would never win this war against the world. They would be dragged down with us. What would be the use of that? William Washington's face appeared on my screen, static-ridden, but still there. 

"Washington here?"

I was silent, staring at him like a fool.

"Leecy? What is wrong? What is your status?" he started. No doubt he could hear the battle around me and guessed that the time had come. "I will deploy the Legion immediately. What is your location?"

"No" I spoke from the heart and in the back of my mind I thought of Treize and the life I might have had if I had been able to stay in Lyon. "Let it keep, William. Let the dream keep." I severed the connection just as a mighty explosion blew out my window. The noise was deafening, but I was able to make one last call out to the base on the Spree where Kateline was."

There was no response. I knew the base was either not online, or destroyed by this time. 

An enemy Mobile Suit lowered to my blown out window. I saw it and dove behind my desk as it began firing into the room. The bullets sprayed across the wall and I crouched as best I could, hoping the desk would hold out against the attack. My office door opened and a few men who came to see what was happening were bullet ridden corpses by the time I saw their faces clearly. After less than a minute, the Mobile Suit moved on, and I was able to escape into the building interior.

The base was infiltrated within half an hour. During which time we held them off with what weapons we had. Specials soldiers littered the area and the siege was hopeless. Outside, the battle continued and we knew that Expedition Storm was still holding out against the Specials. We however, would not hold much longer. Our soldiers fought well, but they were frightened nonetheless. "Bitte Gott, helfen uns!" the young Captain near me kept murmuring, asking for God's aid after the woman beside her lost one side of her head firing on a niche of enemy soldiers. I did my best to calm the Captain, but there was nothing I could say. They were going to eventually get through. The sounds of air battle diminished and we knew that Aria's forces were pulling back. They couldn't help us now. Our only hope was in surrender. So, I did the only noble thing I have ever really done. I tore the rank of office off of my jacket and walked out in the hallway with my hands up, surrendering the group before we were all picked off. Not quite the most practical way to assure survival, but even I have my golden moments. Fortunately for me, prisoners were just what they wanted, and so we weren't all killed. They rounded us up and asked who the highest ranking officers were. No one volunteered me. No one even answered. If they wanted the officers alive, they would have to keep us all alive. 

"We can get the answers back in Potsdam. Take them along"

"Look, this one is just my type. Little far from home, aren't we darling?" one of the soldiers prodded my back with the barrel of his gun. I wanted badly to have a gun on me. I felt extremely open and vulnerable. Killing all these men would have been an automatic response had I had the means to do it. But that wasn't how it was going to go. They secured us, and lead us out of the building.

Outside I saw the devastation of the battle. The airborne Specials were overwhelming what was left of our Aries and the encampment. The neighboring town was on fire and under siege. The noise was deafening from out here and we could barely hear our captures shouting at us in German to form lines. An important looking man in a dark green Napoleonic style uniform came over to survey us. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and neat dirty blond hair. A self-important look wrapped his features making him appear smug. I supposed he had a lot to be smug about. Hadn't he just won the war?

"That's the last of them, Major" one of the soldiers reported to the man. 

"Good. What about the rest?" he indicated those still holding out in the riverbed encampment.

"Captain Lo'Hyan says they are still resisting"

"Get the Colonel online. We'll see what he wants done now." The soldier left us. I noticed then a large carrier sitting near the edge of the tor. Our captor was deferring to a higher authority, probably the architect of the attack. I stood in the front row of our line up and watched the Major pace back and forth before us. He addressed us directly then as he surveyed the group.

"It will make it all much easier on you if you disclose who the Officers in charge here are. I find it highly unlikely that we killed them all in the siege."

I had a strong desire to shout the name of Merrick Delizabane to the Major. But the soldier came back and we had to wait as the Major went to consult with his superior. When he returned he gave orders to his men too quietly for us to hear. The soldier saluted and radioed into a squadron still in the air. I watched with my heart in my throat as the group of Mobile Suits dispersed from the south where the encampment was and flew north. I can still feel my eyes widening as I saw them reach the Wittenberge Dam, letting loose a furious attack on the old mammoth. They pounded on it for nearly three minutes and then drew back. The Wittenberge siren went off. It could be heard all along the riverbed. The Specials Forces all moved out with their suits, striking at those who still resisted. Then a tremendous crack followed by a terrible rumbling sounded through out the dell and the dam was broken. I turned frantically looking down the riverbed and seeing little dots of people scrambling for the sides of the riverbed. But the bed was too large. They would never make it. The water would rush down on them too quickly and sweep everything away, encampment, and the at least forty towns running south in the riverbed. All of them would be swept away, all of Aria's troops and Aria herself. If she wasn't already dead, she would be in a matter of seconds and I was powerless to stop any of it. 

I couldn't move at all. My feet had become earth and I was fixed to the ground. But my eyes worked and they saw everything, the water coming down the dell, covering trees and rocks. Even the tor shook with the approaching of the water. But we would be safe, too high for the water to reach. When the water passed us, it was the loudest noise I had ever heard. One of the soldiers smacked my face and forced me to look forward as the water passed behind us, speeding toward the south. There was no change in the roaring when it overtook the town, just the same vociferous crash. Only now my sister was gone with the soldiers, with the town, with the water. 

I held my ground and stared ahead, determined to see nothing. My first reaction was a sudden outbreak of that horrible coldness and then an overwhelming desire to let myself forget all of it. I told myself I could let it seep out of my head and that I would never look for it again. But I knew my promise to Aria would make that impossible. So instead I clenched my hands and determined how best to survive. First, I would have to keep still and make no more movements until I was told. That soldier was standing right next to me; waiting for me to so much as blink so he could hit me again. No more thinking now, just listen and do what you are told. Just listen, don't speak, don't think, don't move, stare straight ahead, no more thinking.

When the noise wavered a little, we were corralled into the carrier plane and secured to seats with cuffs. I remembered the soldier had spoken of Potsdam but I had no idea what would happen to us there. I was alive for now and, survival being my greater talent, I would try to remain so. That was a good enough goal for the moment. We had a small window near us, as we ascended I strove to see out of it. All I saw was the water of the Elbe, stretching for miles over its regained course of old.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Trowa was tinkering on the remnants of his computer when the door of his apartment opened. He cocked an ear for the sounds the person made half ready to spring upon the person should it be another attacker. But his instincts told him that the new arrival had no such purpose. The sounds of the footsteps were heavy enough to indicate a male, and slow to indicate fatigue, not stealth. He heard a sigh as the door opened and was surprised. Quatre never just walked in. He always remembered his manners and knocked politely. 

            "Trowa?" the young man called.

            "Here" 

            Quatre walked into the shot up living room. There were bullet holes all over the walls and fragments of glass and metal strewn about. Trowa had moved the larger pieces of his computer onto the table and now he was trying to gather pieces of the hard drive. The girl who had attacked, Shireen Delizabane, knew just what needed to be destroyed on the files.

            "Doesn't look good" he commented to Quatre who wearily sat down on the small sofa across from where Trowa was working. "Welcome back"

            "How is Duo?" he asked Trowa.

            "The same."      

            "How is Heero?"

            "Still gone. No word from him since he left." Trowa put aside his tools and moved to the kitchenette to make a pot of coffee. He thought about offering a drink to his friend, but knew that even in crisis Quatre would not blaspheme. Quatre remained uncharacteristically quiet while the coffee brewed and Trowa knew that Okami had not been found.

            "Any trace at all?" he asked, finally handing the young man his cup. Quatre sipped and shook his head.

            "There is none. I haven't a clue to where she would have gone. I suppose I should accept the fact that she has merely left. But I thought that if I could see her one last time then I would understand the reason or make her understand. But I returned instead when the Preventers called on me. They need me more now to get back Mariemaia and Miss Anne and Relena. Okami doesn't want to be found. She turned off her Communicator. It's probably lying at the bottom of a river right now." He sipped again and fell into silence. Trowa decided not to pursue the topic any further. Quatre was hurting enough.

            "They are working to find a frequency that will be strong enough to take out the Calypso. We have to wait until that time. There isn't much to do besides that." Trowa set down his cup on the coffee table between them. 

            "Are we to be part of the assault?"

            "If we consent to be, yes. I think they need us. Those Calypsos can be nasty to deal with in regular Scorpio suits. I've gone down to the base and tried some of them out, they aren't Gundams by any stretch of the imagination and there is a finite amount of them. We have no idea how many suits they may have in the Isle. We could be easily outmatched when the time comes. So they are going to need skilled pilots to fly with them."

            Yes, skilled. Three skilled pilots, for Heero is no where to be found and Duo isn't quite among the living right now. But there is more still. The Delizabanes have a Gundam themselves, do they not? A black shaded Epyon. How could they have gotten a hold of the prints to that machine? The original Eypon was destroyed and Wing Zero as well. The Gundams and the Gundam Scientists have passed on."

            Trowa nodded and settled back in his chair. It was good talking to Quatre again. "I believe Gabriel Khushrenada must have inherited the plans as part of his brother's estate. Remember that he was found and brought back to Earth by Lady Une in order to settle his inheritance. I doubt she knew that Epyon was part of it. But what is Gabriel's now belongs to the Isle. Thus they have the Epyon. As to how we are going to deal with it, I can't say for sure. But considering it is Gabriel, I think Zechs will be the one to step up.. I saw it beginning last year after the Summit and especially when Zechs disappeared for that time he was prisoner in the Isle. He and Gabriel have much to settle and I think it goes deep."

            Quatre listened quietly and Trowa wondered how he would reconcile going back to war. He had not wanted to see war again, believing somewhere in his heart that with the Gundams gone and OZ destroyed he could now embrace the pacifism his father had died for. But Trowa was made of less idealistic stuff. He felt that this was the burden of all people and pacifism, however wonderful, was a luxury most humans were never able to afford. So instead they kept it in their minds, just out of reach, dangling it like a carrot before their eyes to help them move through troubled times like these. Quatre finished his cup and set it down.

            "I suppose we had better get training then. They could find that code any second and we would be forced to fight without any practice. Can't have these Preventer pups making us look like fools." Quatre tried to smile. Perhaps delving back into his best talents as a fighter would help him through this troubling time. Trowa rose and got his coat. He saw as Quatre reached in his pocket and pulled out a communicator, looking at it solemnly. "She won't call" he murmured to himself and made to set the device on the table. Trowa took his wrist before he could drop it, meeting his friend's still youthful eyes.

            "Hold on to it. You never know . . ."

            Quatre grasped and then plunged it back into the depths of his pocket. He nodded once and turned toward the door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

            It was dark when we arrived. The sky was velvet blue and the air desperately cold. My fingers felt stiff and frozen as I tried to pull down the cuff of my jacket to warm them, but the metal handcuffs prevented it. We were all ushered out of the carrier and made to stand in the snow for an hour while arrangements were made. I could see little of Potsdam in the dark, but I suspected by the light of day much devastation would mark the newly taken city. For a few seconds I thought about the west front and wondered if perhaps all our other bases had been taken by now, or if there were still holding out. But quickly I turned my mind away from it. No thinking, just surviving. 

            We were taken inside the base, which by the security light I could see was riddled with bullet holes and blackened by fire in places. This must have been one of our bases before the city fell to the Specials. My face was struck by warm air as soon as we passed over the threshold. Under heavy guard we were transported to a detention area. There were large rooms for roll call, and individual cells where a single occupant could be placed, or if need be, cuffed to the wall. We were ordered to line up in one of the large assembly rooms and again made to wait. There was an urge to look to my right and left and mark the condition of my fellow prisoners, but that passed. Every man had to look out for himself now. There was no looking to others. They didn't matter.

            Again, the Major in charge of our capture appeared and began addressing us. He impressed on us again the value we would have if we could name the commanding officer at the base. He warned that it would be much harder on all of us if we did not at least give the name. But to my astonishment, none spoke. I thought sure someone would have given me up at this point. The fools should have given me up. The Major told us then that he would find out anyway who the leading officer was and that they might make their circumstances better by coming forward and giving themselves up for the benefit of themselves and the group. Hearing this, I swallowed heavily, knowing that I should step forward and proclaim my identity. I quickly weighed my options. If I submitted myself, I would likely be executed. If I stayed silent, we would all likely be executed, but it was not certain either way. My instinct was to remain in the crowd and hide myself, but my mind knew that I risked sacrificing everyone else in order to survive. But that was the point, wasn't it? Anything to survive; no loyalty, no honor, no nobility, only survival mattered as long as my life was still worth it, which at that point was extremely debatable. I thought for a moment longer and then, just as I was about to move forward to submit, a voice near the Major rang out.

            "That one there!" he said pointing to me. I looked and I recognized him. It was Kertsein, one of my attendants. He was not standing among the prisoners but side by side with the Specials officers. He was wearing one of their waist-coat uniforms! 

            I could literally feel my eyes turning black and the blood rushing to my face as I looked on him, snarling out venomously "Spy!" The Specials Officers were on me at once. They pulled me from the line and roughly started dragging me forward. But I was so angered at the treachery of Kertsein that I lunged forward, trying to get a hold of him. If I could just get within reach of him I would be able to tear out his carotid artery using one of the Samurai techniques I had learned long ago. I fought madly against the two men and managed to get one arm loose, though both wrists were still held by the handcuffs. My eyes saw only red and I was blinded by fury. Somehow I got within two feet of him and was struck on the back of the head with something. It sent me down to the ground pretty damn fast. But I didn't stay there long. The officers were lifting me again and one punched me in the jaw until I was limp and no longer struggled.

            "She's a fiery one."

            "What's your name, girl?" they asked me, but I only spit my own blood out at them. They assured me that for every question I didn't answer there would be another bruise somewhere on my body. I still remained silent, slipping into my mind and out of my body so that I would feel it less. I don't know how long it went on, but at some point they took me into one of the individual cells at the end of the block. It was completely dark except for a little light from down the hall coming through the barred panel in the door. And it was cold, terribly cold. I was forced to sit on the floor with my back against the wall and my wrists bound to the wall above my head. Time slipped by slowly while the blood on my face dried. They had only struck me there once; mainly they kept to the back of the head and to my stomach. It was lucky I had eaten very little this day or I would have thrown up. But soon I wished I had eaten something, for they left me there a long time and after a while I reckoned that it had been almost two days since I had eaten.

            The room got colder and colder. My body temperature was failing and moving was made impossible either by my bounds or the pain of the beating. I tried to fall asleep after a while, but I was too angry to sleep. My mind's eye saw Kertsein betraying me over and over again. My mind's eye saw the flood rushing toward us. As much as I tried not to think, I realized that my thoughts maybe all I had left, and in a way my anger kept me warm. So I turned my fury as high as I could and before long the object of my absolute hatred was my own father, the one who had caused all of this to happen on a whim. 

When I noticed light again, it was morning, or perhaps early afternoon. A small bit of it penetrated a slither of a window near the ceiling. Footsteps sounded. They had been sounding all night but these ones caught my attention because they stopped at my cell. I stirred myself a little, trying to move my frozen fingers, but I couldn't. The door began to make noises and finally it opened. I could feel the warm air rush in. A few men stood on the threshold, obscured by lack of light. I could hear what looked like papers being shuffled and a folder flapping open. After a few seconds delay one of the men came in.

"My god it is freezing in here." he commented, still looking at his papers but now there was not enough light to see them by, so he moved into the light from the window to read from his files. I felt sure my eyes must be frozen over and that I was seeing him incorrectly.

"So you are the Rhineland's First Lady of War? Cute title, very inventive." He said. His voice confirmed what my eyes incorrectly saw. No, not incorrectly, unless my hearing was off as well.

"It says here you have refused to give your name. It will make things easier on you if submit." He couldn't really see me, not in this gray light. I saw him look at me and then look back down. I was sure now. This was no trick of my imagination, my eyes or ears. This was just a sick and twisted turn of fate.

"So I have heard" I responded, making sure to lay my accent on thickly and give him just a hint of familiarity. He stopped for a moment but then he resumed, closing the folder and folding his arms behind his back.

"Well, I thought I would at least visit my adversary in war. You most certainly gave the Alliance a lot of trouble and surprised the Specials with the force of your resistance as well."

"How very kind of you to offer compliments to the vanquished." I took a deep breath but it hurt and I made a small noise, coughing out the frigid air.

"Yes, I do try. At least I thought it would be noble to come and look upon my opponent, perhaps find out her name before she is executed." he stepped forward more fully into the light. I just closed my eyes and let my head fall against an aching arm.

"If you could actually see me, you would already know my name, Treize." I whispered raggedly.

That stopped him, as I opened my eyes I could see the perplexed look on his face. Something was stirring in those eyes, he was figuring it out, but did he dare believe such a thing? It was a long period while he stood there in the colorless light, trying to see me through the shadows. Finally, went for the door.

"Captain, turn on the lights to this cell" he ordered and reentered the room, this time shutting the door behind him. A few seconds later the room was filled with florescent light and I was blinded. I shut my eyes against the painful light and waited for them to adjust. When at last I could see, I saw the bright blue of his elegant jacket and the reddish brown of his hair. His expression was certainly one of shock, lips parted and eyes were slightly widened. 

"You." was all he seemed to be able to get out. After his initial shock he came kneeling right in front of me, the folder of papers discarded on the spot where he had stood. Treize gripped my face in his very warm hand, examining me carefully; perhaps only half believing what he saw.

"It can't be." He touched a piece of my straight dull hair, lighter brown and very different from the last time he had seen me in Lyon. 

"Anything can be" I responded, letting him finger the dark bruise and dried blood on my jaw and mouth. 

"Anne . . .Christ . . How could this be?" Treize's voice softened to a whisper and was laced with pity.

"Spare me your pity, Treize." He ignored my slight hiss.

"My god you are freezing. What was done to you?"

"Only the legendary courtesy of the Specials. Their hospitality is quite renowned." I answered, wincing as he continued his inspection.

"Was it really you then who commanded the resistance against us?" I looked at him and what he displayed was not disbelief, but admiration. I tried to give him a cheeky smile, but failed from the swelling of my jaw. So I nodded and he set a hand on my head that patted through the limp strands there.

"I was right. You are something special. Simply remarkable. I knew you would be important." He was now smiling as though I was a beloved lost pet that had finally come home.

You have changed so much, almost nothing like you were before. I can hardly see the girl I knew in the face before me. You're most certainly a woman now." He smiled fully in amazement at what he never expected to find in this dank cell.

"A woman whom you will soon have executed" I answered, my dull eyes fixed on the floor. Treize was silent for a long time, just looking at me. This was no happy meeting for either of us. The reality of our separate roles in this travesty asserted themselves.

"You ordered the dam broken. You flooded us out."

"Yes" he answered.

"You killed my sister."

He was quiet for a few beats, probably not having considered those that had died in water's wake. "Yes."

"And now you are going to kill me."

He did not answer. Instead he rose and slowly, with a little hesitation, he left the cell. The lights were again turned off and his footfalls echoed up the cell block. I heaved a short sigh at our meeting and tried to think no more of it. It was likely the last I would see of Treize Alexander Khushrenada.

 Being unable to move and consequently unable to sleep, I watched the light move across the far wall of the cell. My body was by this time mostly numb and I could no longer feel the pains of hunger. A few times I became sleepy but didn't dare sleep, fearing I would freeze to death if I nodded off. Most of my time was spent listening to the distant sounds of soldiers walking up and down the cell block. No other prisoners could be heard and I hoped that the rest of the captured were being held elsewhere in more comfortable places. The only other alternative was that they had been executed, but I didn't want to think about that. 

My joints were extremely stiff by evening when the light disappeared from the cell again. The juncture of my shoulder and arms throbbed with renewed pain when I moved my legs up against my chest, trying press close what little body heat I had left. I thought of the soup the base kitchen would have been cooking about now and how I would gladly eat everything Aria had put on my plate if it were before me again. It was a stupid thing to be so finicky about food and appetite. I should have shown some gumption and eaten when I needed to. But I don't think becoming famine-resistant is high on anyone's priority list. The thought of stuffing my face made me laugh a little but my abdomen was so sore I quickly stopped. I think by this time my mind was slipping into waking dreams, because I could almost hear the waves crashing against the cliffs in Dover, or was it Ireland? 

Inhaling the air that suddenly didn't feel so cold, I smelled bacon and sausage. Mrs. Collins must have been preparing breakfast, which meant I'd have to get up soon. The bed was so soft and warm that I rolled myself in the sheets and hid my head under the pillow. Mrs. Collins hummed old English songs while she cooked, I could hear _Greensleeves__ and _Scarborough Fair_ echoing up the stairwell. My eyes hurt from the dark and I wouldn't open them, but I knew the sun was starting to come into the window. But I was not ready to wake yet, I wanted a little more of just smelling the food and hearing the sound. Soon, either Mathius or Shireen would creep into my room and jump on my bed, demanding that I get up. Perhaps it would be warmer today that it was yesterday. Yesterday it had rained and made the land green. Hopefully it had all dried out so we could take breakfast outside on the deck porch. Aria would be teaching me how to play War with the new deck of cards she had purchased yesterday in town. But not before I finished the book I was reading. All of it would have to wait in any case, I was still sleeping and still smelling the wonderful aromas and feeling the warmth of my bed.  Finally, I knew I had tarried long enough and I stretched my limbs and cracked open my eyes._

Then I felt the burn of my limbs, the immobility of my muscles. Every contraction caused the wakened parts of my body to shudder and my eyes were dry from the cold. For a moment, tears formed from the shock of the cold air, but they seeped out and make my cheeks colder yet. There was a gnawing in my mid-section, like an animal trying to shred its way out of my body. God, I was so hungry. I had heard stories of prisoners who had been starved on and off for years in their confinement. They're were grown men who would begin crying while trying to describe what it was like to be hungry all the time. A part of me felt like crying now, the rest of me couldn't remember how. I hadn't cried since my mother died. But maybe if I stirred myself enough, I could manage a few tears. Tears must be worth something. I dwelled on all the sad things for a few minutes, hammering in the hurt and the different hardships, waking all that was numbed in me and wringing it out, trying to get some tears out for everything that had gone on. There were none because in the end it didn't mean anything anymore. 

So I gave up. I let myself fall back against the wall, limp and wasted. My eyes closed and I decided to let myself sleep and to hell with waking up. But the footsteps now approaching  again stopped me. They were coming back again. This could be the end if they were coming to execute me. I watched and listened as they came slowly, multiple pairs of footfalls, conferred for a moment outside my cell, and then opening the door. The florescent lights came to life and I was again blinded. With my eyes shut against the ache caused by the lights, I felt men removing my hands from the cuffs against the wall. I hissed in a sharp pain when I was able to lower my arms. Everything ached terribly, especially there. My hair fell in my face and shaded my eyes from the light. They were pulling me up but there was no way I could stand at this point. A few more men came in and I saw what seemed to be a stretcher. The men who had pulled me up balanced me while another took off the torn jacket of my uniform. I was then lifted and placed down on the stretcher bed, hearing the metallic raking as it took on my weight. Somewhat adjusted to the light, I looked from face to face, none of them were familiar, but all were wearing white coats over black Specials uniforms; Medics I thought.

I was strapped into the stretcher and heavy blankets were placed over me, an air mask was fitted over my swollen mouth. They spoke amongst themselves about my status, but I barely heard any of them. This might well be the worst torture of all, to cure me of all ailments before execution. At least I would be put out of my misery if they executed me in my current condition. The Specials might indeed be that cruel to their prisoners. That was why I always let Kateline kill those we had captured right away. No sense in being so brutal by allowing them to linger and waste away contemplating their impending deaths.

The stretcher jolted and I was being wheeled forward out of the cell. We passed more soldiers in the cell block hall and another prisoner being led to my cell. As they wheeled me away, I saw that the new prisoner was a terrified young girl with long brown hair. They uncuffed her and roughly forced her into the jacket they had taken from me. She was crying as the replaced the cuffs and took her forcefully into the cell. I could hear her whimpering and the sound of cuffs being secured to the wall. Then we turned the corner and I was out of sight from the cell. One of the orderlies next to me leaned over and said very quietly.

"You know who that was? That was you."

* * * * * * * * * * 

**And Now, Ye Old A/N:  This method of author response to reader questions was suggested to me recently and I thought it would be helpful for some of you with questions about the story. This will only be given to the reviewer questions, as those who email me already get their answers in response mail.**

**Sarah: Thank you for the comparison, I am extremely flattered. While I do use Tolkien as an influence for writings on despair, I could never place myself even close to his level or the level of any other professional author of such tremendous vision and artistry. **

**Is-U: I know it! That was so rushed. But in all honesty, it had to be so. It could take another five chapters to sum up all the nasty experiences that went on in the beginning of the Rhineland War. I figure there has been plenty of grit and mind-numbing despair already and so her experience was summed up in brief exposition. If you really need to get a feel for what it was like, Saving Private Ryan is just a video store away. I hope this more slowly paced chapter does the trick for you.**

**Quincy007: I seriously have to stop myself from putting Monty Python vignettes in this story, and I have you to thank for it since you wrote that review. When things get so depressing or there is some dramatic standoff, I have the most terrible urge to make Zechs or Anne say "NEH!" Just so you know that I do have a sense of humor. And I do have plenty of funny little bits in store for my third installment (which still has no name yet!). Now, as to your questions, concerns, people with mental disorders are often written off as Mental Retards, but such is only the case in a handful of disorders. The disorder in this story is not one of those kinds, though it can be debilitating and cause irrational and violent behavior, it is not Mental Retardation, as all the characters have average to above average comprehension skills and such. I guess over all I have to ask you to suspend your disbelief when it comes to the Mentescadere. Yes, a lot of people in this story seem to have problems, an entire family is mentally disturbed (and since the Delizabanes are ½ of the cast, it tends to show up). Treize is somewhat damaged because of the overdose he suffered, and there are definitely irregularities in Gabriel (with both his New Type ability and the brainwashing the Delizabanes dealt him) Zechs, and Heero. The New Type stuff was one of my first ideas in this story and I wanted to incorporate more of the actual Gundam themes, since this is a tale that is Gundam but not about the Gundam Boys.**

Anne's age discrepancy has a reason behind it and will be dealt with in the next chapter. I also try to establish that in this time, youth is more utilized. In the series, Sally was a doctor at 19, Treize the leader of OZ in his early twenties, Zechs and Noin Colonels at 19. It is a youth against the world kind of plot, realized by the youngest of all, the Gundam Pilots and Relena. GW gave me a feeling that the young were the bearers of the future and the ones who can achieve peace. I try to ground that in more realism by creating a society that promotes maturity and responsibility in mere children. In Analicia's case, it is in the extreme, and completely eliminates that which children fundamentally need, love and security. But it does work, Aria and Anne are no different than the Gundam Pilots or Zechs in that they are extremely young and are capable of handling the responsibilities they are given because they have been forced into growing up very early. Growing up for them is just another means of surviving their circumstances.  Still, this doesn't say much for the older generation who are willing to bet the structure of their society on the abilities of children, which was one of my initial gut reactions to first watching Gundam Wing.

The matter of Anne's claims that Zechs never really understood war is just one of her personal perception. She feels that if you have never had to repeatedly watch your enemy die in front of you, and not just explode inside a mobile suit, then you aren't really experiencing the act of killing or war itself. This can be debated of course, but we are dealing with Anne's own opinion on the matter. Perhaps she and Zechs can argue out the philosophy later.

On the matter of Anne's sudden decision to stay with Treize, it can be chalked up to a sudden whim born out of a feeling she has never had before. Not a single person in her life has ever really given her a choice in the direction of her life. To her, choices don't exist and she doesn't miss what she has never known. A lot of possibilities that she never considered before open up with the suggestion that she can decide for herself where she will go, what she will do, and who she will be. She knows she has it rough but she figures this is her lot and there is nothing to be done about it. Treize is telling her it doesn't have to be so and when given the choice to stay and explore this strange new freedom or to return with her family and to the life that in almost all cases has done nothing but hurt her, she chooses to stay. However, as we all know, the choice was taken away from her. If it still bothers you, you can chalk it up to my poor writing skills J

And to the question that everyone keeps asking me "Will this have a happy ending?" My answer is, it depends on your definition of happy. There will be no "Happily Ever After" in this story. I feel to do so would cause everything I have written to collapse. My efforts here are to add a little more realism into the Gundam Wing universe, particularly as it deals with war and change. The happy ending will come depending upon which characters can adapt to the change they will have to live with in the end, which characters are best equipped to handle life in the wake of their experiences, which ones will inevitably fall apart under the strain, and which characters will have changed enough themselves to find their own stability and help others to find it as well. I leave each of you to decide how the overall ending ranks on the happiness scale, because it will probably vary from reader to reader.

As always, thanks for being the lovely readers that you are and bearing with me while I behave as the windbag that I am ^_^.  Further questions or comments can be addressed via email as always.  

~A.  
  



	14. Resolution

**All Standard Disclaimers Apply**

**Chapter 13**

_"A man who won't die for something is not fit to live."_

I was drugged upon admittance to the base's medical wing, and I only know this because I was later told. In truth I had fallen asleep under the weight of warm blankets while I was being transferred to the Sick Bay. It was a deep and empty sleep, devoid of dreams and rest. I awoke as tired as when I had first fallen asleep. I was not alone in the small room they had secured me in. There was a guard present and he would answer none of my questions once I was able to voice them, but only summoned a nurse to wait upon my needs. No one spoke to me unless it pertained to my health and so I was forced to suffer the eternal company of a watchful guard while I waited for whatever new fate the Special's Forces had planned for me. I remembered well the words that loose-tongued orderly had whispered to me as we left the cell block. Their meaning was less certain. 

It is hard to say how much time went by. There were no windows in the small room and no clock. The room was not like a cell, for it had a few amenities to it, such as a sink and bathroom (which was embarrassing at best with a guard forever watching me). Most of my time was spent lying in the small white bed, either sleeping or staring out into space, lost in thought. There was nothing else to do but wait. I regulated time by the breaks that the guard took and the visits from the nurse who took my stats. It was really the first time I had been in a hospital of this kind, and so I did not understand what was or was not a usual movement. It was always the same two people who I saw hour after hour while I waited in that room. No interrogators, no Alliance Officials, no Specials Officers, no OZ agents, just me and the beady-eyed guard. 

I knew I would find out what was in store when the nurse finally came earlier than she should have (by this time I had been able to mentally time her movements) and gave me an injection. I began to feel heavy within seconds and knew it was sedation. They waited for the drug to take affect, the nurse and guard both standing by me until my eyelids dropped and I breathed through my mouth. They nodded to each other and departed, turning off the lights behind them. I pulled the bed cover up around myself a little, knowing I should stay awake so I could see what happened. A sudden thought arose that perhaps they might have given me a lethal injection. But it would be rather strange for them to leave the room if such were the case. They would more likely have stayed to confirm the death. I couldn't consider it any longer, sleep was on me.

He was in the room when I awoke. It was probably not long since I had fallen asleep. I had no way of telling time but it still felt as though I had been sleeping only a matter of minutes. The lights were back on, and Treize was sitting in the chair the guard had occupied for so long. He was again wearing that blue uniform that signified his status as an officer. It took me sometime to see him clearly, by the time I was sure it was him he had left the chair and was standing by the bed side.

"I think they gave you a little too much. It was only to keep you subdued" he informed me in that usual quiet voice.

"I have a weakness for sleep." I managed to say. The bed was warm and I still felt heavy, and somehow reassured by Treize's presence. Treize nodded at my statement, showing no expression. He turned for a moment and pulled the chair up to the cot, sat down, and braced his arms on her high booted legs. Then he remained silent, looking at the wall. There were many questions I could have put to him, but instead I waited for him to speak. He seemed to be thinking, mentally preparing something. So I showed some patience, but I was feeling sleepy again. The silence and his oddly comforting presence worked to lull me.

"I want you to do something for me" said Treize suddenly, his body unmoved. "I want you to think hard about what you want now"

A harder question he couldn't have asked. I had a thousand answers and yet none at all. He sensed my confusion and spoke again. "It is important for me to know what you desire at this stage of events. What you decide on will determine the outcome of many things. Think very carefully on it, Anne."

"You still call me that?" It was a small amusement now, recalling simpler and younger times. We had both aged lifetimes since he gave me that name, though it was but three years and as he spoke I began to see the boy that I had dallied with in Lyon had passed on into this enigmatic man.

"It is your name now." His words had finality to them. I looked hard at his face, his eyes which were still looking forward beyond me (how that soon became the standard for my time with him), his mouth set gently but indifferently. There were markings of experience that had not been present three years ago. His boyish youthfulness had been worn over with seriousness and conviction. Treize could still be called pretty, with smooth somewhat feminine features, but there was a definite masculine power accompanying them. Actually, it seemed that there was a power in every physical portion of him. It was startling when finally detected the command he had acquired in his person alone.

"You are not thinking, Anne. Concentrate on the question, not on me." That surprised me. He wasn't even looking at me and yet he knew my mind. The way he said it was as smooth and quiet as all his other words, but I heeded them this time, feeling a little rushed. After several minutes he looked at me, perhaps out of impatience and I answered.

"I don't know. I don't want to think about desires if they will simply be denied."

"Denials will depend on the desires themselves. I am capable of accommodating many of them, but not all. If you wish to return to your command as First Lady of War and Countess of Mortain, I can grant that, in which case you must be executed for treason and inciting war against the Earth Sphere Alliance."

I swallowed visibly at his ominous words. With one option before me it was easier to make a decision. I at least knew I didn't want to die. But what other alternatives were possible? Again, he seemed to read my mind.

"For the moment, you are not First Lady of War. You are not Analicia Delizabane. You are just Anne and you have a choice to remain so."

_'You know who that was? That was you.'_ The meaning of the orderly's words in the hall suddenly made sense to me. But I didn't quite believe it. 

"That girl. . . The one they put in my cell?"  Treize might have been a high ranking officer. But how could he pull off something like what I now suspected? Treize explained in his customary bland tone.

"Officially speaking, Analicia Delizabane has already been dealt with. She was executed this morning before a firing squad with all necessary personnel in attendance. There was no contention over the execution. Our enemy is dead, which now leaves you, Anne, to decide your own fate."

"You killed someone in my place? Who was she?" I felt guilt rising in my throat over the whimpering girl who had born my name as she was shot to death.

"Someone who looked enough like you to convince those who needed convincing. She has served her purpose. Do not think of her any more. Think of your choice." He was a little more emphatic this time, yet still expressively calm. Again I thought of what I wanted and what he might be offering me. I answered with the only certainty I had.

"I want to live." 

Treize seemed very satisfied with this answer. Perhaps he feared I had developed some sense of honor and would wish to die with my troops. But such would never be the case. Survival was what I knew and what I was best at.

"There is only one way you will be able to live now. I will allow your life to continue, but in return you must serve me." Treize left a great space of silence between these words and his next. "It is not only because I require something in return for saving your life here, but because you will need my protection from those who might know or learn your true identity, in which case you would also compromise me, and I will not tolerate that kind of endangerment."

"But, if I serve you, I will be in the lion's den. You would protect me by surrounding me with the enemy?" I asked.

"In a matter of weeks, my protection will be all that you need to be safe from those around you. No one will question you with my shadow covering you."

"What would be required of me?" I was still very unsure about this. How could I serve him? Would he expect me to be his secretary? Maid? Perhaps something more demeaning and inappropriate; I tensed at the thoughts.

"You have already shown you adeptness at military strategy. I will enlist you as my aide in the cabinet. That way I can keep you under close watch and also benefit from your abilities. You will join OZ and become a member of the Specials Forces."

You could have blown me over with a feather, joining up with the enemy.

"I don't know the first thing about your organization, Treize. How could I serve under one of its chief officers?"

"Not just one of its chief officers, its leader, Leader of the Specials and of OZ. And you will learn about our organization. I am sure you are a quick study, else how would you have risen to the rank of General so quickly?" Treize returned to staring past me.

"That was because of my name, Treize. Not because of my ability."

"If that were true, the Alliance would have picked you off and I would never have been called in to deal with your armies." His flattery had an edge to it.  I shook my head. It was a fluke. No person of my age should have been allowed to lead an army. I wasn't ready for it.

"It shouldn't have been."

"Lafayette was General at twenty. Joan of Arc led French armies against the English at seventeen. You are not as rare and inappropriate as you think." He answered my momentary lament. But now was certainly not the time to delve into the wisdom of giving such power to such youth.  I had to focus on the matter at hand. The whole proposition felt too heavy to consider in a single sitting and I asked if he would give me more time to think about it.

"You must decide now. I cannot hide you here much longer"

There wasn't enough time to make this kind of decision with any wisdom. I had no idea what kind of organization OZ was, only the bits and pieces that I had heard from Romafellar. Would I want to get involved in this? Who knew what they might make me do? Everything was so unclear. Perhaps I could agree and escape. No, Treize was a powerful man, he would easily find me and I knew if I didn't cooperate I would be dispatched to protect his interests. Yet why was he taking the risk in the first place? He wouldn't be compromised at all if he had just let me be executed. I was sure my abilities didn't outmatch other candidates for this job. Why did he want me?

Then I remembered his dream, that vision he had had when he overdosed. Treize had said I would be important in the future me meant to build. At the time I had written it off as insanity, but seeing him now made me think differently. He was indeed in a position to influence the future, and he had alluded to extending his position to encompass more power. But he would only be the leader of OZ and the Commander of the Specials Force. He was only a small portion of the greater Alliance. Was he still obedient to that dream he long ago had? Was that why he wanted me? Oh! Not enough time to decide anything. It had to come down to a choice, live or die. I always chose the same.

"I accept then. I will serve you if you will let me live." It sounded so much like slavery when I said it. And in a very real way, it was. Treize blinked once, his face unreadable, his mind unknowable. 

"Then you must prepare for your first mission as an agent of OZ. If you succeed in this, I will know that you will keep your word and serve me well. My trust in you will hinge upon the completion of this task."

I nodded my understanding. He smiled slightly and rose from the chair, speaking again as he moved the chair back.

"You will need a new name. Anne will not do publicly, it's too familiar. Yet I do wish to pay respect to the title you earned in the war. First Lady, perhaps a variation . . . first . . . number one, one . . . Lady One . . . no, something more clever." He put his finger against his mouth, thinking and muttering possibilities.

"Lady Une." he finally declared. "Pronounce it phonetically instead of in French. Only you and I will understand its meaning and its honor." Then he bowed and left me to rest and to recuperate for my first mission.

I prepared hastily for what ever assignment awaited me. Primarily this meant recovering, and recovering meant staying still and obeying the dictates of my nurse. This went on for nearly three days until I was able to eat solid foods without throwing up, which was my initial reaction to eating the base spaghetti dinner. When I was deemed ready by both the nurse and myself, I was transferred to a secured area of the base in the dimmest part of the night and outfitted with a basic Special's uniform. It was a rather unimaginative black coat tailed suit with an ugly black cap. Some where laced with gold threading and embellishment's, not unlike our Isle uniforms, others were decorated with rusty red. The guard, the same who had kept the watch over me all this time, instructed me that I was to wear my hair back. I discreetly pulled it back into a tight braid. When I had finished and felt mentally prepared, I was brought to the place where Colonel Treize Khushrenada received visitors. He had an office deeper in the base under very heavy surveillance. Obviously his safety was a concern. The opulence of Manoir Cristal had some how followed him here and seeped into his surroundings. I noticed fine pictures decorating the corridor outside his office, which was actually two rooms, an outer and inner chamber. It seemed a little smug. I had never had any grand accommodations when I was a General, just a few extra comforts that I mostly rejected. Either Treize was a material egotist, or I was a foolish martyr. My more mature sensibility tells me now that it was a little of each.

I was led into the chamber, where guards stood outside holding M-16's.  They flanked either side of the slide doors, staring straight ahead and looking very serious. My guard led me to the door and spoke lowly to one guard who barred his way. After some short dialogue and a few glances at me, I heard one of them say "She is expected", at which point they allowed us to pass through. The interior was by all terms under construction. I was taken aback at how in the midst of war a man could find carpenters to remodel his office. But there they all were, with ladders and long planks of wood. The air smelled of fresh paint and plaster. We didn't stay long in this room since it was obviously not prepared to host Treize's visitors. We walked to a connecting doorway with a little foyer at which stood yet another guard. He informed us that the Colonel was already with someone and that we would have to wait. So we stood against the wall of foyer listening to the screeching of saws and the lapping of paintbrushes. It was a long time before the door to Treize's inner office opened. A number of high ranking officers came out. I looked at each one that passed, not really thinking that I should be averting my gaze and not attracting attention. None of them men was familiar, but as they all passed out I heard Treize's voice right by the door and saw him standing with one last member of the party. This man I recognized as Duke Dermail and I hastily looked away and tried to remain inconspicuous. It would be disastrous for me and for Treize as well if the Duke recognized me. It seemed to take forever for him to finally stop shaking hands with the Colonel and to depart the area. He did not spare me a glance. Treize watched as the Duke left and when the door to the out office finally closed, he motioned me inside.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Clarks, you may go. I will be quite fine with her. Wait for us outside, please" Treize ordered as we entered his already furnished inner office. It was much like his home in France, light and well decorated with the aristocratic flare. But there was more here, an official feeling, an underlying authority. This was not just the personal office of Treize Khushrenada, this was a stronghold of OZ. Clarks snapped into a crisp salute, turned in proper military fashion and marched out of the room like a toy soldier. I was left alone with the Colonel. He was calm as ever, motioning me to sit in the seat across from his desk even as his took his own behind it. He was looking me over, evaluating my appearance in the uniform.

"It won't quite do" he commented, still gazing at the trappings. "I still see too much of you. More needs to be hidden. But it can wait until after the success of your mission."

"What is my mission?" I asked gently. But no matter the softness of my tone, Treize's eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

"You do not speak until spoken to. I am the commanding officer here, not you. You do not address any superior in OZ unless they give you permission, is that understood?" Of course his voice never rose when he was irritated or angry, but he got his points across just fine without the use of volume. I retreated into myself a little as I nodded my understanding. But after a second I remembered myself and responded with a precise "Yes Sir!"  

"We are still cleaning up pockets of resistance through out Western Europe. The same night we took Wittenberge we also took a dozen or so other key targets in the Rhineland and beyond. France is now safely under Alliance protection again and Germany will be wrested from what is left of your divisions in a matter of days. Admittedly we did not know which base the Generals would be found in, but a lucky defector gave us warning. Now that we have you, the rest needs dealing with." Treize paused here and began writing on a piece of paper, seemingly to add to the tension. He always did have a hidden flare for the dramatic.

"You, my Lady, will take a division to our last major pocket of resistance and eliminate it. Here is your primary target." Treize handed me the piece of paper. I took it and read what he had penned down. My eyes drifted over the letters, once, twice, on the fifth time I finally looked back up at him, my jaw open. Could I really do this and if so how? He watched me impassively, but the hard glint in his eye told me that I would gain no quarter without this mission.

"The first lesson of OZ is this: failure means death. Either you complete this mission successfully or you will be removed from my protection" Treize reclined in his chair, watching me. I folded the secret on the paper up and held it in my lap, closing my eyes as I did so. That cold feeling had returned. The one from the cell and from the night I had been hurt in the Rose Garden. 

"You will be leaving tonight. I suggest you prepare yourself, Lady Une" he held up his hand and signaled for me to go. I rose and remembering Clarks' performance before leaving, I snapped into a precise salute and left in the same fashion. There was barely a trace of a smile on Treize's lips before I turned my back on him. I felt like a damn monkey performing for a half amused audience and I would have been angry if I weren't so cold. Outside the office, Clarks escorted me to what were to become my quarters. They were simple rooms, quite standard for any officer; the difference between mine and others was the separation. The barracks were in an entirely different portion of the complex. The only other person who slept in this wing was Treize himself. Again he was keeping me close and under his shadow.

I took a shower as soon as I was left alone. That cold feeling had not left and now I very dirty. The hot water was comforting and I prolonged the shower as long as I could. When I came back out from the bathroom, my dinner sat next to my bed. I ate and was able to keep everything down. All my functions seemed to be running properly, and yet I was greatly distracted. My mission would be trying to say the least. The target would be heavily defended. But Treize had not been wrong in choosing me to deal with this last pocket of insurrection. The difficulty would be in overcoming my own horror at attacking my own. Yet as I considered the difficulty of becoming a traitor, I soon reconciled with it. Already I was a soldier of OZ and would have to play the part of traitor if I was to live. If my conscience fretted later I would find a way to silence it, or become deaf to its calling.

While I waited for the time of departure, I thought over my plan of attack. The target area was extremely familiar to me, and so the vulnerable spots were already well known. Several possible strategies came to mind, but for the primary target a little bit of creativity would have to be employed. Much would depend on how things unfolded upon engagement. Once near the target, elimination would be easy. Already it was working and I felt no pity for what I had to do. In light of all that had occurred; I nearly reveled in the thought of the execution.

A knock at my door signaled the time had come. Time had meant nothing these past few hours. I straightened my jacket and departed with Clarks. He led me down a succession of corridors until we reached a twin set of bunkers. One of the bunkers was lit and crowded with men all preparing Aries for departure. The suits were ours, or at least they had been ours. Aries belonged to OZ now. Treize stood on the platform near the collection of suits and soldiers. He turned as I approached. My behavior toward him was as official as I could manage knowing little of OZ custom. 

"Are you ready for this, my Lady" he asked quietly despite the din of preparation. The wind whipped at his clothes and cape. One hand lay on his hip as he watched the progress of his soldiers.

"Yes Sir" I answered.

"Have you a strategy in mind for this, Lieutenant Lady Une?" I supposed that was to be my rank for this mission.

"Several, Sir. Each one is dependent on circumstances that can't be known until we are engaged." I watched the troops begin to finish up with their tasks. The bright air field lights around the bunker was the only illumination we had against the night's cover.

"Is leaving your hair down part of those strategies?" he asked noting how it fell loosely down my back. Treize had a fixation with appearance and presentation, particularly mine.

"It is, Sir. My familiarity will be paramount in achieving the primary goal of this mission." The soldiers were lining up.

"You endanger me."

"Only to keep you safe" I retorted. If he wanted this mission completed, he would have to sacrifice some momentary security. The conversation ended as all the soldiers chosen for the mission now stood lined up before us. I stayed where I was as Treize embarked on an introduction of Lieutenant Lady Une and a word of good luck to the troops. He then left it to me to explain the mission to the troops. This felt much more natural. I was used to explaining strategy to entire divisions and I had no trouble with this group. They were all quite disciplined. 

My explanation was brief. I gave a clipped account of the attack areas, possible lines of defense and main target area. In addition I informed them that I would be disembarking and personally accomplishing the mission once we secured the perimeter. Further questions could be answered as they arose. The squadron yelled their understanding with a resounding "Yes, Ma'am", followed by a brusque OZ salute. We suited up.

It would be two hours before we reached our target across the channel. My apprehension had fled long ago, replaced now by frantic strategizing. Much could go wrong for my small clutch of suits if the area was well defended. But I suspected that by this time the Isle forces were greatly diminished. My main purpose was to eliminate this last leader and then find a way out. It would be easy enough getting to the man, but escaping might be more difficult. I spend the two hours thinking and rethinking the many possibilities.

The sun was setting on Dover when we reached the white shores. Our radars showed a minimal amount of Mobile Suit activity in the area, but there was little to account for those not detected. My plan had to be finalized now. Within moments the battle would be engaged and we would meet the enemy, my father's men. I saw the manor house grow larger as we neared it and behind it, the military complex in which I had been raised.

I gave a fleeting thought to my Sensei Hirumatsu.

"Spare the house. Hit the larger portion of the complex where the bunkers are located. Concentrate fire power there until you are engaged. We need to keep as many suits from taking off as possible. Watch out for ground fire along the outer perimeter." I ordered over the Com Link as we passed over the cliff edge where I had once broken a glass ball in my hand. 

We were not fired on at all of course. The suits were Isle suits and so no one suspected that we were Alliance Specials. On my orders, my squadron took up air positions around the perimeter and I landed. I made sure to take off the Specials' jacket first. Isle soldiers surrounded me as I disembarked from the Mobile Suit and flashed guns at me before they saw my face. They desisted instantly at my command.

"Lady Analicia! We thought you had been killed in action" One man spoke up, lowering his firearm.

"Obviously a mistake. I brought back as many as I could. They are taking up perimeter positions to protect us should the Alliance followed." I indicated the strategically dispersed squadron.

"Shall we prepare for battle, Lady?"

"No, let me speak with my father first. He will give orders of that nature. Take me to him." My heart picked up speed, fearing for a moment that he might not be here, that he might have run. But the soldiers assuaged my fear.

"Of course, Lady, Lord Delizabane will be most pleased to learn of your survival." He motioned toward the house. I followed him, touching the wrist of my sleeve for the Com Link I had hidden there. When the time was right, it would give my squadron their signal to attack. The other hand went down to my fully loaded pistol.

The house was no different, still dark, still overdone. Yet this time I noted that the terrible portrait of me which had been painted in Ireland was now hanging in the hall. I suppressed a cringe at the sight of it. Tumult rained over the house. There were people running all about and servants carrying bags of belongings, moving from room to room. This was definitely a packing effort. It seemed Lord Delizabane was evacuating, and running away. As we neared the office I could hear his raised voice and I swallowed. The moment of truth would soon be at hand. I stopped the soldier a few feet from the office and ordered him to return to his post. This was still my house and I didn't need to be led about. He saluted and vanished back down the hall.

I approached the room slowly. The door was open ajar, enough for ease dropping. _How convenient_. At the other end of the hall and around the corner were the sounds of soldiers, I thought it best to give them some place else to be. Moving against the wall, I activated the Com Link and spoke lowly into it.

"Move in"

The answering blast shook the house. 

I slid behind the door as it flew open. Through the space between the wall and the door I could see my father's shocked face standing on the threshold. Holding my breath, I prayed that he wouldn't catch me hiding there.

"What the hell was that?" he called out and moved down the other end of the hallway, away from my hidden form. A soldier came around the corner and informed him of the attack.

"Well get out there and defend this base! Muster the squadrons and take out those damned suits! How did they get through the perimeter undetected?"  The officer answered that he didn't know and was sent scurrying off toward his duty by my father's wrathful yelling. Another face appeared on the threshold of the door to the office. My eyes widened as I marked the flashing red hair of my cousin Kateline. Merrick huffed as he went back in the office, not even bothering to close the door. I shifted my position to hear and see better inside the office.

"Find Mathius and take him to Oslo as we agreed. He is the only useful child I have. Damn daughters have caused our ruin. My son should have been born first and if anything happens to him, Kateline, it will be your life that pays the toll."

I seethed at seeing Kateline standing there alive. Had she run and saved her own skin when her base was attacked by the Specials? I wouldn't doubt it for a moment. And now she was going to be in charge of my brother. It made me sick to think of her near him. But I couldn't be concerned with it at the moment. My main objective came first. Kateline scowled but saluted. Another explosion rocked the building and the sound of battle could be heard outside. Kateline exited the office and ran down the hall, never seeing me. Now he was alone, but it wouldn't take long for others to come to inform him the status of the battle, or before he ran for his life. I moved in.

He was looking out the window, stretching the blinds to see what doom awaited him outside. I closed the doors tightly behind me and he jumped.

"Analicia!" I loved the shocked look on his face. I saluted him obediently.

"I escaped the Specials attack on Wittenburge, Sir. But I fear they have followed me here." I did not meet his eyes but gazed ahead as a submissive soldier should. Merrick fumed.

"You led them right to our front door? Idiot girl! First you lose the eastern front and now you drag your homeland down with you. Useless! You and your sister have always been useless."

"It is my regret to inform Your Lordship that Aria fell at the Battle of Wittenberge." I reported tonelessly. Merrick simply shook his head.

"Damned Alliance!" he cursed fluently.

"Does my Lord Father have orders for me?"

"I should have you shot for your utter inability to d-defend against the likes of the Alliance. Why d-didn't you send for the American Legion when you fell under attack?" I heard the stutter and met his eyes, they were jumping about and he was shaking his head strangely. I wondered briefly it if was fear and rage, or the disease. Whatever the cause, there was no pity for him.

"Our satellite was knocked out by the Specials. We lost all communication."

"Well such is not the case here. You make yourself useful, girl, and you tell them to get their asses here. Washington would not take any of my calls. But I know he has favored you for some time now. He will come at your call since he considers you the real Eldest Child. So you get on that phone and you make him come." He pointed harshly at the phone. I let his anger wash over me and warm me toward my purpose. I looked at the phone and still stood at attention.

"I cannot, My Lord"

He became all the more enraged but I felt safe in the knowledge that he was no longer master of my life. My new master would have far more power over me than this man ever did. "Disobedient cow! Useless, just like your mother! I should have had you poisoned alone with her! Then you wouldn't have had the chance to fail everyone!"

 The cold returned at his words regarding my mother. I looked at him and allowed that numbing cold to flow through my body. We stared at each other for too long.

"Obey your orders!" he said lowly, unaware of what was coming. I loved his obliviousness. He never would have guessed.

"Yes sir." I drew my pistol and shot him once through the throat, fulfilling my objective. Merrick's eyes widened when he saw the gun and then grabbed his throat even as he fell backward from the shot. The noise of the gun was lost in the sounds of the battle outside. As he hit the ground, a nearby explosion caused the window to shatter. Glass flew in around us and the sounds of the battle became even louder. My father choked on the ground, not dying fast enough. My hatred diluted my blood and suffused me with ice. I came forward and stood over the writhing man whose eyes were still wide. His hands were covered in blood and still he was trying to hold his throat. I raised the pistol and fired three more shots into his chest until he was still and his eyes were blind to the world.

"NO!" Someone screamed behind me. Without any thought I turned around and fired toward the voice, hitting the man who now stood at the opened office doors through the abdomen. He fell back immediately to the floor in a heap, crying out in pain. The sounds of the battle were quieting. It must have been nearly over. I began walking toward the exit when I recognized the man on the ground. He held his bleeding mid section and was gazing up at me with pained tears on his face.

"Leecy . . ." the man rasped. It was Bram. He had no gun on him and was already shaking from the wound. My breath caught for half a second. I knelt down next to him and looked at the location of the wound for a few seconds.

"You have one hour, then you will go into shock. It will be peaceful then and not hard." I placed my hand on his brow for a moment as a few more tears fell from his struggling face. He seemed very old in that moment and the look in his eyes hurt me. I rose, turned, and left him there. As I passed down that hallway, I caught the disappearing figure of a little boy who had likely been witness to everything. Sighing and looking only forward, I pulled out the Com Link.

"What is our status?" I called on the Com Link as I approached the front door. The captain reported back quickly "We have secured the perimeter for the most part, Lieutenant Une. A few stray suits are still engaged on the south side, but your area is secure."

"Excellent, I will be returning shortly. The main objective is complete." I turned off the link and was about to open the front door. But I stopped and looked back toward the staircase. This would probably be the last time I would see this house. Without thinking I sprinted up the stairs and found my way to my mother's bedroom. Something in me felt that this was the place to have a last memorial now that she had been avenged at last.

I felt the cold melt from my body the moment I opened the door. Feeling rushed back into my heart and I sucked in a breath. The room was as immortal as it had always been, unchanged but for a few new layers of dust. I let my eyes sweep past everything that had been hers and then closed them. I was the only thing left that was truly hers.

"Sleep well, Victoria." I whispered into the quiet room.

I was about to leave when one small thing caught my eye on the table near the bed. They were my mother's glasses. I couldn't account for how they had come to be there. The last I remembered, they had been left in Ireland. I suspected one of the twins might have brought them back. But how they would know to put them here was beyond me. However, I didn't question my luck, but instead I picked up the delicately framed glasses and put them on. It felt natural and necessary. 

As soon as I left the room the coldness returned and stayed with me as I left the tumultuous house and climbed back into my Aries. The squad captain informed me of our victory and awaited further orders.  I put him on hold and contacted Colonel Treize. His striking face appeared relaxed and calm on my screen.

"Lady, have you completed your mission?" I detected smugness in his question. He knew that had I failed I would not be contacting him now.

"The target has been eliminated and the area secured." I answered expressionlessly. Treize smiled.

"Those glasses suit you, Lady. The better to hide your eyes." I ignored his comment.

"Your orders?" 

"You're Squad will be relieved in an hour's time. I have already dispatched an occupying force to take over operations. You will be returning to Potsdam. Tell me, did you find this mission difficult?" he asked. I answered almost immediately "No." and it was true. I felt as though I had been waiting to kill Merrick all my life.

"I see, well I will see you in a few hours. Then we must go to Africa. A friend of mine is graduating from Lake Victoria and I promised to be there. Farewell . . .   Lieutenant Colonel Une." Treize promoted me and severed the link.

I sat back and waited for the relief force to arrive, keeping my mind away from the past eighteen years. 

**A/N: This chapter is a little more than half the size of my normal chapters. But I felt the thread was self contained enough to stand on its own. Sadly my resolution to complete EC before the end of winter break fell by the wayside. I was continuously delayed by illness during my regular writing hours and rampant computer troubles. Now the semester is back on me and I am working my behind off trying to keep on top of things. We are over the hump though and have just a little more to go through with Anne and Treize before the present day can take center stage again. Thanks for tuning in.**

**~A.**

  
  



	15. Mutual Memories

**Chapter 15**

**Mutual Memories**

Treize had warned Zechs prior to meeting her that she had received the promotion and position that Zechs had been vying for. It had not been the graduation present he had hoped for from his old friend. In fact he remembered it was down right hard not to resent her right off the bat for taking what he had been promised long ago, the position of chief aid to his Excellency. His first thought was that she must be sleeping with him, even though it wasn't like Treize to be so smitten with a girl that he would make her part of his inner cabinet. Perhaps she was especially talented in the bedroom, a good whore, but a whore nonetheless.

The moment he got a good look at her he knew that couldn't be the case. She was too cold for any breathing man, even Treize, to take. One might feel chilled simply by meeting her gaze and so, Zechs did not look long, and wearing a mask made it easy to avert his eyes without seeming rude. Definitely not sleeping with Treize, but all the same, she was likely to be a novelty to him, perhaps an effective one. Zechs didn't doubt that most of the men in OZ would do her bidding.

She hung back from the crowd a short but reachable distance from her commander, her arms folds behind her back as she glanced warily from one face to the next. She was wearing the black uniform of a Specials lieutenant. Her new uniform must have been on order, for lieutenant colonels did not wear such common clothes as a soldier or visa versa, unless the soldier had been granted special honors, as Zechs had been. He and Lucretzia Noin along with four other graduates had been allowed this dispensation because of their high achievement at the academy. This occasion was the first in which he donned his red jacket uniform. He felt quite overdressed when he learned he would only be making lieutenant while this unknown took his promised place.

"Please understand, my friend. You are only just graduated and it would be unseemly for you to receive such a promotion even with the accolades you have earned at Victoria." Treize tried to comfort his disappointment with half truths. Though it was rare for a recent graduate to receive that level of promotion, it was certainly nothing Treize couldn't pull off, regardless of how seemly it would be.

"I understand, Your Excellency. Would you tell me something about my vanquisher?" Zechs couldn't keep the disappointment from his comment. Treize brushed it off easily.

"She is well qualified. Her family were members of Romafellar. German, you know. The rebels did away with the rest of them, but she enlisted and fought well enough to make a high rank. She personally led the attack on the rebel headquarters. Somewhat fitting, I think. There is nothing I appreciate more than good justice."

"Perhaps only a fine set of legs and a willing mind." Zechs said under his breath earning him a sardonic glance from Treize.

"Her devotion has its limits, my friend, as does yours."

Zechs never fully understood the meaning of those words and he had thought on them many times over the course of years. But still he was ever unsure.

Treize called over his new second after Zechs' bitterness had been soothed somewhat. The woman came at his bidding, standing rigidly in front of them both. Treize made the formal introduction, but Lady Une never made any movement beyond a small nod of her head in acknowledgement of Zechs. In that instant Zechs knew he would not like her.

"Have you been long in the field, Lady Une" Zechs asked her, wanting to see if there was a voice behind the figure of ice. He wondered briefly if the particular question had struck a nerve, for she looked at him with a deeper, cold intensity before she spoke in a roughened voice.

"Long enough"

"Do not let her frost fool you, Zechs. Lady Une is no older than you are. Her training was just a tad more informal than your own" asserted Treize. Zechs immediately wondered at the truth of that claim because Lady Une snapped her eyes at Treize, who returned her look until she backed down. If anything Treize had said was untrue, this woman was not going to contest it.

"Informal you say?" Zechs asked her more than Treize.

"He says informal. I say practical" she answered while surveying her surroundings. It was odd behavior to be so on guard while in a gathering of allies. The woman behaved as if any moment the ground might shift and swallow everything. Deciding it wasn't worth it to pursue conversation with the young lady, Zechs addressed Treize instead "Your underling appears serious for so few years."

"Youth and appearance are sometimes incongruent, as you well know, and war ages us so" Treize turned away from his aide and began walking the length of the lawn close to the stage where the graduates had stood a half hour before. Zechs walked beside him, Lady Une followed a few feet behind. It was a warm day but the wind wiped across the savanna and blew in their ears. The grass bent willingly beneath its touch.

"You've accomplished the first part of your plan perfectly. No one can question your rise in rank now that you have graduated the top of your class, and the top of all classes at Lake Victoria."

"Thank you, Your Excellency" Zechs said graciously. Treize assumed a more discreet tone as they walked.

"Academia will take you only so far, as will talent. More is needed to achieve your objective. Diplomacy is what is required now and I think you are well suited for it. I have a more prosperous position for you than that of my Personal Aide. But this position will require an even keel, my friend. You will need to earn the respect of the Specials beyond your Lake Victoria performance. You will need to be political, and you will need to rise on your own accord. Any position I honor you with will only hurt your career now. You must find your own advancement. As my Personal Aide you would not be in that kind of position."

Zechs couldn't resist a small, cynical grunt. "I suppose you have briefed your Lady Colonel on the possibility of advancement in her position." Treize gave him an uncharacteristic hard look. Most definitely a look of warning that was strange to see on what was normally a placid face. Treize lowered his discreet tone even more. "She is no concern of yours or you of hers." The curt response ensured no more visitations on the subject of Lady Une.

Ahead of them stood Lucretzia Noin, Zechs fellow graduate and friend, the only one he had made during his time at the Academy. There was soreness in Zechs' heart at having to give up that friendship now that they were graduated and would be separated by different career paths. Noin was a good soldier and an understanding woman, but not too understanding, which he preferred. Zechs didn't care for anyone understanding him too well. It was difficult enough that Treize did and consistently seemed to use it to his advantage. But after all, Treize had been there from the beginning. He had his excuse.

Noin turned and lightened when she saw the group. Zechs could see the glint in her eye and even back then he suspected what he hoped was not the true case. The way Treize had explained the female sex (a subject he was fond of researching) made Zechs feel that women must always be mysterious and unknowable. And so when he looked at the glint in Lucretzia's eye, he knew it couldn't be what it seemed and would write it off as something he couldn't understand. Not love. Definitely not love. Love was too obvious and Zechs was aware that he was ignorant in the matter of women. No, most definitely not love; he knew that much. Something else, but it couldn't be love. Love wouldn't work.

"Your Excellency" Noin bowed with perfect courtesy and Treize did likewise, brandishing the smile he reserved for the opposite sex, tempered with professionalism. They exchanged pleasantries and congratulations. Zechs noted that Noin changed positions and now stood next to Zechs, as if he had been with her the whole time and Treize had been the one to join the group.

"So, when does the new Chief Aide to His Excellency begin duties?" Noin asked with a smile on her face and laced in her voice. She wasn't dismayed by the quiet that answered her question. "Did I speak too soon, hasn't he offered it yet?"

Zechs shifted uncomfortably, preparing to speak. But Treize saved him in the last moment.

"Zechs' new duties will be taking him to La Grange Point. He will have a small accord of men, I understand, and will be guarding the interests of the Specials from a higher elevation as a lieutenant."

Noin's face fell a little and she tried to recover herself quickly so as not to seem rude. Zechs say her eyebrows fall from a distressed look into a curious look and a small smile. "Oh, I see. New plans" she answered, nodding.

"Worry not, Lieutenant Noin, Zechs will prosper in any setting we place him. I'm sure you know that. You will have your own challenges ahead. Teaching cadets is no easy task. When I was a cadet, I drove my instructors to distraction" Treize laid on his charisma thickly and Zechs could see that even a sharp woman like Lucretzia was no match for it. She fell into the generic smile of a woman who is elated to have the attention of a man like Treize Khushrenada.

"Having been a student, I know all the tricks, Excellency. So they won't be able to fool me as easily as you did your instructors"

"Yes, and that is precisely why we need people such you teaching the future of the Specials. I have every confidence that your skill and sharpness will mold them into superior soldiers" spoke Treize as he leaned up against the corner of the stage. Noin let out a flattered chuckle, something rather uncharacteristic. But Zechs gave silent thanks to Treize. The man knew how to attract attention to himself, and away from Zechs. Noin would be distracted from pressing the matter of his promotion, or lack thereof. And perhaps it was all just as Treize said, for the best. Lady Une might very well be better suited for the position for having been in actual combat. And as Treize said, it was a position with no real chance of advancement and-

She caught his eye then. Zechs had turned slightly to glance at her while Noin and Treize exchanged flattery. Lady Une's eyes were closed and she was standing sideways with her hands in front of her ear. She did this for close to a minute and then began to move, walking forward toward the stage very slowly. Her hands went on the stage floor and she knocked on the wood twice. Stranger still, she began to creep away from the group, along the stage edge, sideways, her eyes open but her hand still against the left ear.

"Zechs, what is that woman doing?" Noin asked amusedly when she saw Lady Une's behavior. Treize said nothing and Zechs did not answer. The three of them just stood there, quietly watching her, Zechs in fascination, Noin in amusement, and Treize what seemed like suspicion.

Lady Une reached mid-stage and placed both her palms on the wooden floor. Her eyes closed again and Zechs thought crazily that perhaps she was praying, because he knees were buckling and she was sinking to the ground. Then, with a sharp movement, Lady Une was down on all fours, sticking a hand beneath the stage. Zechs could see her arm moving back and forth searchingly, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. She stopped and her eyes snapped open. She felt around again and again and then looked into the crowd for a moment, homing in on something. Then she looked back toward them.

Zechs remembered hearing the dull click of metal somewhere between the time Lady Une rose to her knees and when she barreled in to the three of them at a full run. She went for Treize primarily, knocking him the farthest, covering his head and shielding his body with her own when the stage exploded. They had been standing too close and a piece of the decking pierced through her leather boot, lodging itself in her upper calf. In other places along the stage, people were killed instantly by the explosion. It hit hardest on the opposite side from Treize and Zechs. People, seemingly out of nowhere, arrived immediately to insure the safety of His Excellency. They pulled Treize out from underneath his Aide and away from the fire. Zechs did the same for Noin and would have done so for Lady Une, but she was already standing by that time. She had hobbled out from the smoke and, breathing hard, was still searching among the fleeing crowd. In the chaos, Zechs could hear gunshots being fired, but not returned. A boy, not more than fourteen, went down some fifteen yards away. Lady Une did not waste time. Zechs watched as she crossed that distance between herself and the fallen boy. Once there, she fired her pistol once into his face at close range. He saw the blood leap up to her waist and fall back down to the ground.

The fire engines were approaching; the sirens rang clear from the base. His Excellency was a safe distance away and completely unharmed. Survivors were being pulled out of the wreckage and assessed or treated for wounds. It made Zechs sick to his stomach and angry. He knew many of these people as fellow soldiers and graduates. But even with his anger he hadn't moved much beyond pulling himself and Noin out of harms way.

"Fucking terrorists" Treize muttered as Zechs observed him wiping the dirt and grass off his uniform. He then started surveying the crowd and didn't look away when he found his Aide amongst the smoke and debris. She was limping toward the group from the shattered and burning stage. In her hand, Lady Une held what looked like a thick branch, but as she drew closer Zechs recognized it as a severed arm. Soot-faced and steely-eyed, Lady Une dropped it before His Excellency, the trigger mechanism stuck out from its tightly clenched fist. Treize looked at it a while and then at his Second. She wasn't looking at anything.

"When you are shot, your hands will involuntarily clench, very tightly. So hard your nails may puncture your palm; you can't drop anything you are holding. Someone has to remove it for you. The body is too focused on the wound." After Lady Une said this, she seemed to realize her own wound and winced, sitting down on the grass nearby and with excruciating slowness, removing the sharp piece of wood debris that stuck out from her right calf and boot.

"Remarkable" Noin remarked. "Did you hear them? The explosive devices?"

Lady Une was holding the wound and removing her jacket. With some effort she tore the sleeve apart and tied it around her calf. "They have a high pitch sound, like when there is change of pressure in your middle ear. They are cheap explosives. I've seen my share of them."

"Who was the boy?" He asked.

"I saw him sitting on the stage earlier watching Mr. Treize. He looked out of place. When I found the bombs he was some feet away, still watching. He was too scared to trigger the bombs before, but once he was found out, he likely had no choice. Doesn't matter . . ." She paused, and flicked her wrist hard; little flecks of blood from her hand wet the grass in front of her. "Dead now."

That was all she would say. Noin asked a few more questions that she ignored. Zechs still wondered at why she held her hand against her ear. Had she been trying to block out the wind coming in off the Savanna so she could hear clearly. Or was she testing her middle ear to be sure her senses weren't deceiving her. Even so, she had known what it was, and had gone straight for Treize. Even today, Zechs did not know if he would have done the same.

Lady Une glanced at Zechs again, eyebrows hooding the glare.

Whenever he thought of her after that, it was always with that look, and the suddenly snap of her wrist, flicking the excess off of her hand; he didn't know why.

"General Senorat" He would say

And the good General would die, usually in some private, accidental looking way

"Magda Orumtellique, not so quiet this time. I prefer you to see the rewards of your work"

We watched it on the news together. He smiled and breathed with tired ease. I still hear that sound in my sleep. It's the kind of noise a man makes after very fulfilling sex. It was like serial killing, only I did the deed and he got the pleasure from it. Later I understood that he felt them properly sacrificed to a coming age. He mourned them in his own way. There really was no pleasure, only the satisfaction that he had done what he was meant to do to bring the new era to fruition.

For me, these things were easy. I just went blind at the proper moment and then it was as simple as clipping the thorns off roses. I had no stake in their lives and killing them would insure my own survival. It was, to be trite, self-defense. Look forward! That's what I did, every time. Look past their heads, past the running of the red and look to the horizon, even if it's just a wallpapered room or a poorly kept park bench. Just keeping looking out there. That's where you are going.

Nothing has changed.

I suppose you want to know about how it was with he and I, and you probably want to know about her, when she came into it. I feel confident enough now that you understand that I was here first and that anything else is secondary and incidental. If you don't see it that way then you should stop right where you are. You are likely one of them, and I have no time for you.

It is the enlightened that I attend now.

I slept with him, many times. I enjoyed it on many of those times as well. But only a handful those times involved sex. Even fewer involved love, on either part. My devotion to him, so often noted by others, was born out of the horizon that I constantly sought. After you fixate on something for a long period, and that something is a focal point on which you can hang your sanity, you require renovation. Eventually, looking toward the future meant nothing. Then was the same as now and where I was became the same as where I had come from. It wasn't enough. I was right back where I was. So I started listening.

He told me what he told everyone else, really. But the way he spoke, as if I was the only confidant he could bring himself to take, was what stirred me to finally listen.

But our beginning wasn't easy. I admit that I tried to escape, twice. The first time was after the first assassination I had committed. I simply walked out of his house and off his estate in some kind of trance-like state, nothing to do with my illness. I was just a little in shock at the course of my life. I remember thinking back to that night in Lyon when he had told me I could have anything I wanted and that I could have choices if I would just stay with him. How foolish I was, how trusting and stupid! It was some time before I realized how far I had gone and I had the idea to stay gone.

Of course, he found me, or his agents did, two days later, thirteen miles away. I was given a stern lesson, in which it was once again impressed upon me how my life was now his because I had bargained my breath away. I would have to stay with him until he would release me. The second time I was more careful. Since Treize had failed to decide when to release me, I made the decision myself. I'll never know how he caught me, or how he had known. But he was there, waiting for me in the garage, completely alone.

I don't think I ever understood the superior physical strength of men until that night when he forcibly dragged me back into the house. Every inch of the way I screeched and cursed him.

"You must have killed your mother with that mouth of yours"

"And you must have killed your wife with your--"

"Do not ever speak to me of Leah!" he shouted at me. Leah had died sometime before I came into his service. Though a strong and tall man, Treize had a hard time dragging me back inside, calling me a disobedient cow and an assortment of other "gentlemanly" insults. He was angry, which as I have explained was not only rare, but a difficult emotion for Treize to have, being seldom aroused to anything but that constant calm euphoria. After a good ten minutes of struggle, it actually came down to blows. Zechs I know would never believe Treize to be capable of hitting a woman, but I knew better. He belted me good a few times, and he would have some cuts and bruises to hide in the morning himself.

"It is time you and I came to a proper understanding"

I was flung down in a chair, too battered to really resist anymore. So I managed, with a very embittered heart, to listen.

"You have no idea how glorious you are when you fight back." Treize situated himself adjacent to me and spoke between gasps for air. We had well tired each other out.

"It is my understanding, that life has no greater beauty than the struggle you just exhibited. Your resistance is marvelous and it is that which continues to bind you to this place and to me. Humans are capable of extremes and to achieve the kind of beauty that you have is rare and must be treasured by whomever recognizes it. Do you understand what I mean?"

"No" I spat. He waited until his breath was under control and his calmness was back in place.

"This is all a stage, you know. Everything you see in life, our words, our expressions, our rages and our tears, all pretenses. None of it is genuine. It is our conditioned response to certain stimuli. If you cut your finger and feel pain, your instinct is to become upset, though becoming upset does not soothe the pain. It is the same with laughter and affection. You have been taught from day one what you should find funny, and what you should hold dear. That is not just true for you, Lady Une. It is so for everyone, and in that truth, or rather, the faithful obscuring of it, the world is barren and ugly."

I just stared while he waited for his preamble to sink in.

"But fighting, and the will behind it, that is pure, unrefined, unadulterated truth. It is truth in its most human and raw form. A true rarity. So often we see fear and call it fighting. So rarely do we see people really standing in the way of bullets because of their will and for no other reason. Beauty is found only in the true spirit of battle, when a man or woman raises themselves up, clothed only in their ideal and challenges the universe to put them down. They take on destiny, grasping it and defying it at the same time. They see clearer than anyone else, not blindfolded by fear, or obligation, or hatred. They are prepared to survive at any cost and also willing to die for their beliefs, it is like martyrdom and yet not, it is the true meaning of humanity, to fight and die, to finally be truthful to oneself"

"I have seen that so often in you, many times peaking out from behind your family's shadow. You accepted my offer and killed your own father because you were embracing this beauty, though you didn't know it. You have never backed down even when you had no chance of victory. I saw it when you burned down the school and I carried you away from that place so you would not be caught. I saw it when you lay in that cell at the base where my men were holding you. I saw it ten minutes ago when you tried to run away. You are like Zechs, rare and precious, and infinitely important to the world that is coming."

"You are still on that." I laced my voice with impatience. Treize shifted.

"I asked you what you wanted, and you told me you wanted to live. I've given you life. Now you must repay the world for the chance to live again"

"By killing others! By doing your dirty work! I repay my life by taking the lives of those you want dead."

"They are necessary sacrifices."

"You said I had choices. Why have you taken them all away from me now? I trusted you that last night in Lyon! I believed what you said, that I could stay with you and that I would be free to do as I wished. You lied to me. You've made me a slave." He was very affected by those words. Perhaps he hadn't expected me to be so forthcoming.

"I keep you any way I can"

I just shook my head at him and buried my face in my hands

"I want to give back everything your family took away"

"You took away my family. That was all I had"

"Where we are going the whole world will be your family."

"You will learn about OZ, about Romafellar, about our ideals and our plans. I want you to listen, because you owe me that much."

He was right; I owed him that much, and more. I'll never repay him for it. I listened, and listened, and considered. I will never disclose the things he said to me; I will remember them only in the deepest part of myself where they can't touch anyone else. Those words were for me and I won't give them to anyone else. Eventually, what he explained made sense, even as it seemed like nonsense the first time he told it. Treize's ideal was like a three-dimensional picture. One could look and see nothing, then suddenly the images shift and you can see the design and its profound beauty. He of course didn't convince me in that one sitting, but it wasn't long before I understood his reasons for the assassinations completely. Treize showed me how they stood in the way of this beautiful thing called war and why they had to be eliminated, sacrificed so that the world could have its supreme moment in the sun. It was something to be excited about, and in time it was what gave my life meaning.

I still feel that meaning today, so many years separated from him.

Treize treated me much gentler than. He behaved toward me as if I was an honored guest and a great lady whom had his total admiration. My respect for his ideal turned into a very deep love within a year. But please, all should note that it was the ideal I loved, not the man. Treize, in that first year, became like my father. He mentored me in every way that I wish Merrick had. Treize wasn't so petty as to dote on me as if I were a small child, but he protected me and kept me in a state of reverence, as one does with their lord father. The best way to describe my feelings for Treize at that time would be Mary Magdalene to Jesus, a woman serving a dream, by serving the dreamer.

My commitment was total by the time I was nineteen. I did everything for his Excellency, standing guard at his baths, overseeing his travel arrangements, providing his protections, taking care of his adversaries, studying under his tutelage so that I would better understand the goals we strove to achieve.

He fell in love with me first. Though, he never once told me he loved me, he didn't need to. Love was something Treize did, not something he said. Our romance was very casual at first. A sudden tight grasp of my hand, a light touch, a breath against my ear. I was very unsure of myself at first, not knowing why he was behaving that way toward me. Treize had plenty of women to dally with, why would he flirt with me?

On May Day, in AC 194, he and Zechs came home extremely drunk. I found them trying vainly to duel on the front lawn. Zechs was on his back with his mask half off and his sword nearby. Treize was trying to get his sword out of a tree and cursing tremendously at the old oak for not giving the blade back. They were both hysterical.

"You fucking conifer. . . I'll cut you down tomorrow!"

"It iiiiiiiz tomorrow" Zechs laughed at him from the ground.

"You stay there!" Treize yelled behind him at Zechs, almost falling backwards as he did so "I'll run you through momentarily"

"Lemme get up! Let me get up CHRIST" Zechs answered "so, I . . . can face you." He was rolling around trying get on his knees. I'm sure it would be funny to anyone that didn't have to clean it all up. Treize lost grip of the sword and finally fell over about ten feet away from Zechs. The sprinklers came on just then and both men began to holler.

"Fucking rain! Damnit!"

"Stop whining, Shut up."

"Kill you Zechs"

"Shut up"

Treize had finally seen me and was crawling on his hands and knees toward me, trying to get up on his legs. "Why is my Lady just standing there, watching me get wet?" I began walking toward him.

"No no, I'll come to you. juss. juss gimee a moment" more shabby attempts at rising. I was sure alcohol poisoning was in the cards

"You, I've been waiting to tell you something" Zechs slurred his words at me, trying to fix his mask. He was quicker to rise than Treize, and he stumbled his way over to me, pointing his finger. "You are a damn bitch and everybody thinks so. I didn't just make it up, ya know. Everybody thinks that"

Excellent, then all was right with the world.

Zechs tripped on the walkway and passed out. He apparently had never been drunk before. Treize was the seasoned professional and Zechs the rookie under his wing. They were like that in everything back then.

I called the night guard to have Zechs driven back to the barracks. He was barely able to get in the car without getting sick. By that time Treize had already crawled inside the house. I found him in his bedroom trying to pry off his boots without success.

"This was very easy this morning" he muttered.

"You should not do this, sir. You will be ill in the morning" I didn't want to cross the threshold of his room.

"And so what! I can spare the time on occasion. I can have a single day off my feet where the world doesn't require me to keep it spinning. A single bloody day!" He was struggling so with his boots that I cringed. I saw his eyebrows draw together and his shoulders went tense with the frustration.

"Are you just going to stand there and let me take all night with these things?"

I was at his side immediately trying to undo the laces. Treize slumped back on his bed with his arm over his eyes. He was falling asleep as I worked to take off his boots, and then his pristine jacket. When I began work on his cravat I saw that he was starting to cry.

"My mother is dead" Thus explaining his condition tonight.

My pity was instant. Arcardia was the kind of person who was rare in life and who had yearned only for her sons' happiness rather than their success. If there had been one person who Treize could love individually, it was his mother. Everyone else in the world was all pooled together. But Arcardia had held keys to Treize that no one else could. With her would die the last threads of Treize's restraint.

A man in tears is not much different than a wounded cat. They are insecure and ravenous for assurance. I stayed with Treize for the rest of the night stroking his hair as I would an injured while he moaned and cried about home. I slept curled around him with my forehead pressed against the back of his neck. The next morning he was ill, and did not report for any duties, neither did Zechs of course, and neither did I. I stayed with Treize all the following day; most of our time was passed in silence. There was a single kiss, from me to him, chaste.

People talked when I returned to duty beside him the next morning. People talked. But then, they always do

Author's note:

It has been 10 months since I updated and I'm sure most of you aren't even reading anymore (I wouldn't blame you). Life picks up speed and as I read this fic, I begin to feel that I have written it to death and killed the story by writing too much. However, I have come too far to let it all hang in space for the rest of time and I will finish this. You will likely notice that things will become brief and glossed over so that this installment can FINALLY end and we can move on to where we all really want to be, back in the present where the actual story is. Look for more regular updates with smaller more concise chapters. Thanks to everyone who has and still does read this. -kiss kiss-

A.


	16. Epyon

**Chapter 16**

**Epyon's Currents**

"This is ridiculous." Gabriel spat at his brother. I stood away from the heated argument in the office. It had been raging for some time now. An hour before, Treize's younger brother had pranced into the office full of charm and smiles. Just like Treize before the madness of clarity had taken him and transformed him into a self-styled Jesus. I had an inexplicable and instantaneous affection for Gabriel Khushrenada. The swagger and half smile he presented to the household covered the parts of him that were artless and imperfect. They reminded me of simpler times before things that could not be undone had occurred/

The pleasantries had not lasted. Gabriel had recently completed two semesters at Lake Victoria and was expecting to find a generous appointment in the Specials. The expected preferential treatment that all his classmates grudgingly assumed would be his on graduating had not dismayed him at all. Gabriel was eager to use any clout his brother could provide him and his colleagues be damned. He was without pride that way, an antithesis to Zechs Marquise; and as I had no great feeling for Zechs I was instantly warmed to his opposite.

Gabriel's appointment wasn't to be. The death of their mother had made Treize suddenly very conscious of his relations. This rush of patronage fitted well with his need to play savior. He received his brother with a calm fatherly manner. I stood by him as a symbol of his power more than anything. By this time my reputation as a capable assassin with no remorse was wide spread. I was known as the woman you didn't fuck with. Gabriel recognized nothing when he looked at me but saw only what the rest of his classmates would see, the right hand and fist of his powerful brother. During Treize's refusal, Gabriel glanced at me several times, possibly unsure of how angry he could allow himself to become in front of his brother's deadly aid. Yet as always with Gabriel, his lack of restraint won out and he threw his chair aside and bellowed that his brother had no right to keep him out of the war.

Treize had decided since his mother's death that upon graduation that Gabriel should receive a generous living and perhaps stay on as a teacher at Lake Victoria or another base. He would also consider sending Gabriel to a top university in the country of his choice to pursue whatever passion he currently harbored. The family could use a man outside the military, an artist or musician, though Gabriel showed little interest in either area.

"He can be a damn playboy and seduce all my friends' wives if he likes. But he isn't for the Specials or any other outfit" he had said to me the night before. Not a hard situation for Treize considering that in reality he had no friends, just leagues admirers and enemies. It was not that Gabriel was a poor soldier. Just the opposite. But Treize already had his right hand and his perfect knight to move around a chessboard world. He wouldn't use his brother. All others were apparently expendable.

As expected, Gabriel did not take it well. When the chair overturned, Treize sighed and indicated that I leave the room. I took up position just outside the door. A torrent of obscenity rushed from that doorway as Gabriel swore all manner of oaths at his brother and spared no expense in his vocabulary. Zechs was mentioned several times as a reason for keeping him out of the loop and Gabriel was bold enough to suggest a romance between Zechs and Treize. Treize did not take that easily and within minutes the yelling and vulgarity was being played out from both sides of the table. Soon enough they reached an impasse.

"I won't be sent away! Not to some school or base or country estate. You think you are Father suddenly and that you can rule me?" He shouted.

"That I can rule you is certain. You'll do what I tell you to do because it is **_I_** who tells you."

"Why? Why would you keep me out? I can be of great use. I'm as good as your damned pet Zechs. Better! You know I am! You know it!"

"Whatever you choose to do, Gabriel, you will always have my blessing. But you will not take part in this war." The note of finality in his voice ended Gabriel's arguments. There was no getting past Treize's resolve, ever. I heard silence and then sounds of Gabriel approaching the door.

"Before you go, have a care to stay in the Earth Sphere. Don't take any visits to the colonies." Treize added. There was a very pregnant pause.

"I imagine that a Khushrenada wouldn't be very welcome in Outer Space, especially after last time." Gabriel huffed. I never knew the full story behind those words. I can only imagine it had to do with Leah. Treize had no answer to that. In a moment Gabriel stormed out and slammed the door. He stopped when he saw me laying in wait by the threshold. We stared each other down a moment.

"They were right at the academy. You are frightening, Lady. Like sudden winter in my blood." He murmured.

"Cold chill? Afraid I will kill you where you stand?"

Gabriel flashed his well inherited smile and smoothed back his hair. "I'm not afraid of dying. We never live far away from death. The very act of living speaks well of us, I suppose."

Then he was gone from the house. After three week, Treize finally confessed to me that his brother had gone missing. I was not instructed to find him, which I could have done easily in those days. The matter was left up to others as it was now time for us to make our move. I was soon to leave for the colonies to kill Vice Foreign Minister Darlan and his daughter, a mission I fortunately left incomplete. Treize carried the weight of Gabriel's disappearance with lines around his eyes and an increased tiredness. But he spoke nothing of his brother to me.

He couldn't keep it up long. The journey exhausted him completely. A few moments in that strange inner space where he could see through the shades of another's eyes was enough to lay him out on Epyon's cockpit floor in exhaustion. But it was essential that he learn the mind of his enemies despite the wetness on his eyes now burning down his cheeks and choking him. Gabriel reprimanded himself sharply with a smack to the face. Zechs and Heero, those were the minds he needed to focus on. It was cloudy when it came to the other two who shared Epyon's gift. Instead, he had succumbed to temptation and pushed through the surging eddies and waves of Anne's mind. It was like looking through a view finder of her eyes. The images blinked back and forth, but he surely heard the words of his brother on the last day they saw each other.

His brother Treize, his brother, his brother.

Whatever else he lost, pushed out his mind or let sink to ruin in the gray matter, whatever else he forgot Gabriel made sure he would not forget that man, his brother, his brother, his brother.

Gone how many years? Gone how long? How long from that last day they fought? Gone where?

He lurched himself back up into the chair and concentrated as Epyon had shown him. It had been complete weakness to give way to the heady excitement of touching Anne's mind and finding himself as he no longer remembered being. The flashiness, the smile, the anger, the resolution, all these things seemed out of place for him. Was he ever such a man, such a boy, as Anne remembered him? Was he ever anything but what was now?

_There is nothing but now and now is the enemy. _ Zero whispered a static charge, a rush of atoms through his cortex, like an electric breath, blue and airy. Lightning between his ears and behind his eyes.

Heero was dim in Gabriel's mind. He flickered back in the corners of the light, fading steadily from view. He was dying, Gabriel could feel it. It didn't concern him much. Heero's death would remove another obstacle from his path. Zechs was more troubling. Gabriel could feel a sudden elation from Zechs. Gabriel could sense Zechs' excitement over Anne. If he didn't remember his hatred for Zechs, he might pity him. The woman was going to die when she awoke. Gabriel could see it as clear as calm water. A current of forking blue that Zero exhaled into the thin film covering his irises played the scene for him as if on a movie screen.

_She looks down at us. We stand on the hill on the eastern side of the house. The cliff is nearby and the sea below it is ravenous._ _A gentle pale hand on a window pane, the rain slightly obscuring the details of her face, and then a sudden explosion of red on the glass, sliding like ink down the glass, her body jolting and slowly turning, then she slides down and falls out of sight._

This would make Zechs easy to defeat. When the woman was dead, Zechs would lose all interest in winning. He would already be defeated. But then why did Zechs feel so sure of himself now? He flipped off the Zero system. Gabriel stretched out in the chair he sat in, contemplating. The light in the cockpit was low and it relaxed him. He rolled the cuffs of his white shirt and put his hands behind his head nonchalantly. Zero was the new power in this conflict and it made Aria afraid. He could feel it, even without the system engaged. In fact, Gabriel was starting to feel everything. He sensed the desperation of Relena Peacecraft coming from the other side of the complex; the dread of the raped girl Okami who was there with her, Aria's anxiety, Kateline's plotting and Mariemia's anger. He thought perhaps that these things should mean something to him, but he was cold to all of it. Zero breath echoed constantly behind his eyes that only the advantage mattered, the coming battle was all important. There was no longer any attachment and so memories were expelled.

Is that why he could no longer remember anything of the sleeping woman or the child downstairs besides what was necessary?

If ever I learned anything dynamic from Treize; if ever I shared anything in common with Zechs Marquise, it was and is being a person of choice (as much as a slave might be). This of course means an ability to decide for oneself what will be believed and neglected, tolerated or renounced, loved or hated. Though it is true that the three of us are by nature children of passion and compulsion, we tempered it with conscious choices through out our adult lives. In the days before the Eve Wars when the OZ had overthrown the Alliance and we sat at the height of our glory, I made a choice to hate the colonies.

I had long held a kind of resentment for the plight of the colonies, more or less because the simpering disadvantaged and oppressed colonists seem to always overshadow the plight of earthly nations. Having respect for those who cannot help themselves has always been difficult for me. Of course, I had little perspective on life in Space. What I saw of it during my trips with Treize and as a lone OZ operative showed me the _caved_ nature of colonists. They lived so long in turmoil that peace was out of the question despite what they claimed to be working toward. Peace is a bloody thing, always. People can't be trusted to hold it themselves. Inevitably, the sword catches the nape of uprising. Peace starts and ends with the loss of life. The Colonists never understood this and I had always felt it would be better to be rid of them before they complicated the New Era.

Treize of course, disagreed. I was reprimanded soundly for my threats on the colonies. Treize felt it would be better to manipulate Outer Space and make it an ally rather than reduce it to rubble. Economically he was right, yet now I can't help feeling he would be alive today if I had been allowed to fire some missiles into some choice floating targets at LaGrange Pointe. Everyone would have understood how serious we were then. Happiness might not have been immediate but public order eventually provides its own contentment. All such things are earned with time.

Prior to my journey into Space, I was deep in rivalry with Zechs. It was important to Treize that I make Zechs dislike me as much as possible. For me, that was only too easy, for in no short time I found him threatening to me and to my master. I disliked the accolades he received from Treize, the attention, the merit. Zechs could do no wrong in most cases and there were even times where Zechs was given credit for my own efforts. When Zechs was near, I felt Treize pull away. My anchor was being stolen by a masked threat. Ah, but I knew who and what he was under that metal helmet he wore and the time was soon coming where he would have to discard it. But as I said before, Zechs was and is a man of choice and that is difficult to get around. I often mocked him in public and made example of him during operations, whatever I could do to display the chinks in his armor or any rancor in his calm exterior. But most often, I turned to Noin who proved to be far easier to humiliate. She constantly set herself up for it. I also have unending contempt for any woman that would _downplay_ her own skills to make a man look better. Pathetic. The only coin I held over Zechs was a superior rank, and the quiet knowledge that no matter what may come, with Treize in power, I was all but untouchable.

It was more than clear by the end of the Alliance that Treize would never let me go and that I couldn't escape him. So, I made the best use of that position. Treize was a man who never let go of his toys but never broke them either. In light of this, I can only conclude that it was guilt that made him release me to my own devices in Space.

It came in late May at dusk. Treize was brooding in one of the gardens he favored during times of deep reflection. It was a trellised rose garden that was dotted with white lilac trees, now in full bloom. The enclosure had colored glass tiles hanging in from the trellises. They caught the light at sunset and created a speckled spiral of prisms when the wind spun them. I assumed at the time he was contemplating the Gundam Pilots. They were becoming an increasing obsession, something patriotic that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around, admiration and resentment coughing through his soul and mixing in his blood. I found him leaning on his knees. He was out of uniform, or rather dressed down from it. His jacket was missing and his white linen shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. The sleeves were rolled to the elbows. His black boots where scrapping the ground, mashing petals from the lilac into the stone. Nearby, a black cat he called Augustus was chasing the swaying reflected light on the ground. I watched him in his repose for a few moments. Treize was sullen, troubled. Every now and again he would look over at the cat and make an encouraging remark about its tenacity. Then he would concentrate again on mashing petals with his boot.

"Sir?" I called very gently. I didn't want to disturb him and wished I could have just retreated on his repose and gone back to the house. Treize closed his eyes when he heard my voice, telling me that I was quite possibly the last person he wanted to see at the moment. He did not look up. I continued to report in an official tone. Inside, I felt a tinge of worry.

"You have messages piling up in your office." I listed for him the various officials who were calling him; among them was Duke Dermail, a person not to be put off even by Treize. It took all of two minutes to finish everything I had to say and to detect the almost smothering tension encapsulated in the rose garden. Treize wouldn't meet me in the eye. He looked beyond me, around me, at my feet, at his feet. His mouth was set in a thin line. Even his hands were fidgeting slightly. There was nothing serene or confident about him. Treize was nervous and now so was I. The ancient tide of my blood began to pulse harder and harder, anticipating a storm surge.

In those days, we did not break character in the light of day. I never spoke personally unless he initiated it. It was easiest to play our parts if we could maintain the illusion that there had never been any past between us. In order to make it through the days, it was best to forget I was ever Analicia and he never spoke to me as if I was anything more than Lady Une. We knew the dangers in reminding ourselves of the farce. However, he had not appeared before me so vulnerable since those quiet hours when he grieved for his mother. Now, I felt the heat surging in the back of my throat, pushing me to breach the barrier that separated us, speak in the familiar, offer a hand in whatever was troubling him and stop this pale fire pressing against my instincts.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but stopped and put his eyes back on the ground. I took a step forward, spine relaxed and no longer rigid of shoulder. With each step I took, a piece of my formality dropped away; a little less Lady Une. Seven steps or so to him. He seemed to withdraw back with each step forward I took as if I was some vortex he was resisting.

He would always see me as Anne, his own creation, down on my knees somewhere between Analicia and Lady Une. It was as much as he could manage.

It was enough for me. I knelt forward in front of him and put a hand on his knee.

"What disaster is it?" I tried to sound poetic. He enjoyed poetry mixed in both conversation and rhetoric, making it chivalrous and classical. He loved to play the part of the stoic emperor and I would help convince him that he was just that. Treize licked his lips and still refused to look at me in the eye.

"The worst kind" he breathed. His voice had an unnatural pitch to it, almost shaky.

"I am losing . . . I will fail." Hands to temples, rubbing his eyes and forehead, exasperated.

"You can't possibly fail. You have already succeeded in gaining so much." I reassured. What had brought this on? What happened?

A silence ensued, long and oppressive, full of sharp intakes of air. My hand stayed on his knee and he finally put his own over mine.

"I would not repay your loyalty to me this way. You will be leaving me soon, going to Outer Space." He said. I nodded.

"Yes, it is all arranged. I will leave tomorrow for Moscow."

"I will not see you for a long time. But you will be safe. You know this?"

"Yes sir. I know what to do, who to rely on."

Treize nodded and took his hands away. I was embarrassed. It was an almost pathetic display of sentimentality. As his sometimes lover, I was partially flattered. But everything else in me shuddered at the unnaturalness of this situation. My darkest side was deeply suspicious. Treize waved his hand and I arose, not wanting to crowd him. I backed away. He stood up and finally, raised his eyes to me.

They were full of ill-concealed panic.

"I've had a report . . . From Zechs' outfit in Nairobi." He breathed and I realized it was not panic exactly, something more culpable. Guilt.

"There was a prison within the base. Most of the inmates will be released. They were enemies of the Alliance and so, most consider us an ally. Many have been there for years. I signed the individual release orders this morning. . ." A deafening silence.

"Aria Delizabane was on the list." He didn't move a muscle while he said it.

I couldn't even manage a 'what?' Instead, my jaw lay open and I began backing up further. Treize held my gaze strongly now.

"Your sister" Treize started to walk toward me. "Yes, your sister."

Within little time I found myself backed into the corner of the rose garden, wide-eyed and nonplussed. Treize nodded "Not dead. Being treated by OZ physicians and soon to be returning to her country." He was still walking toward me. Before he could not look me in the eye and now he would not look away. He watched me like a hunter anticipating its prey's flight. Now I could see clearly the guilt on his face and I understood.

"You knew? You knew! All this time. All these years you've known she was alive. You . . . You let me believe . . ." My breath ran out and I couldn't finish. Treize had reached me and stood blocking me way, trapping me in the corner. I saw the panic. I felt the bottom dropping out. Every muscle seized and I knew I had just suffered a terrible wound. My eyes were moist. Was I actually going to cry for the first time since my mother died?

I tried to make a run for it. Get out of the rose garden, into the house, into my quarters, into some sanctuary. The wound was growing as the pieces began to fit. He had lied to me all this time. He let me walk about as a faithful disciple, knowing I followed his word like gospel and his ideal as true vision. All this time he held the secret that could have given me such relief of pain. Treize had denied me this single consolation that would have made existence so much more bearable and so less lonely.

Aria alive. I never had time to feel joy over the miracle.

"Why?" My voice was so choked it barely made it out of my throat. "Why would you keep this from me? Didn't I do enough for you?" I splayed my hands in front of me, exasperated. Treize grabbed them and spoke urgently.

"I told you I would do whatever I must to keep you." The way he said it made it sound as if I brought this on myself and had no right to feel the shattering I was experiencing. In a matter of minutes, my faith and absolute trust in Treize Khushrenada was obliterated. It made perfect sense. The spoiled brat had grown into a selfish and arrogant man. He had no shame over any of it.

But then why this guilt? Why the panic locked in the blue of his eyes? _I am losing . . . I will fail_.

Yes, Treize, you will fail, you will lose. My heart calcified quickly in defense. Sharply my mind scanned for something to strike out with. Treize's hands grew tighter on my arm and he brimmed with turmoil. His anxiety was deserved and I would offer no assuagement, no words of consolation. Nothing for him. I was utterly betrayed by the only person I had left to trust. I wouldn't tell him it was alright. My heart was no stomping ground for any man, least of all this one. All at once, the knife appeared in my mind, I transferred it to my mouth and slashed at him.

"You think you have kept me? Idiot! You've never had me. Never, not even when I came to you willingly. No, Treize Khushrenada, you've been deluding yourself. Someone was there having me long before you came skulking around my door."

It was working. He wasn't breathing, just looking down on me with unblinking eye. Now, go for the throat.

"Zechs, of course! I know! He doesn't seem like the type who would take up with me. But we've actually found much in common. Both of us two fugitives hiding in your ranks, seeking revenge against the Alliance, both abandoning our names and our pasts. Of yes, he knows everything about me and where I've come from. Unique situations aren't they. Lonely ones too. We decided to cure ourselves of that many times." I lied fluently to him. The only indication that it was taking any toll on him was the slow spread of white across his face as the blood ebbed. His lips parted slightly. When I finished my lie, Treize was pale like the lilac flowers behind him. His hands on my arms tightened started to shake. He barely breathed.

"One ill turn deserves another." I raised my chin as I said this.

He let go of me and suddenly his face was reddening. Wordlessly, he snatched the glasses off my face. I flinched a little, preparing to be struck. Treize just held them in his hand looking at them. With his thumb, he caressed the lens.

"You have never been a good liar, Anne." He breathed. "I will say this and then I will say no more on the subject. What I do concerning you is necessary and appropriate. It is beyond physical and emotional. I am barely concerned with either of those trifles. You have measure that only the future will properly calculate. In time, you will understand how essential it has all been." I started away from him unimpressed and hurt.

"You want me all to yourself, Khushrenada? You want me to forget everything I was and become an extension of your body? Very well, you will have it. I will forget everything I am." I turned before I left the garden to make sure he heard me. "And everything you are, and _everything_ we have been. That will suit well." Then I was gone from his sight.

I was true to my word. I left that night for Moscow and being a person of choice, I chose to forget everything and become something new.

Author's note: So…. I said the updates would be more regular last time… well, I lied. But I haven't given up yet!


	17. Sacrifice

**Chapter 17**

** Sacrifice**

"_May you always live in interesting times"_

_Lucretzia Noin_

Her arrival was early. But then, any arrival she made would be too early for Zechs. The first sign of her was a succession of cars pulling up the estate drive. She was in the first one, the others contained her luggage. He had no idea who had called her but if he had to guess he would pick Hildre, at the behest of Wufei who did not like that the baby lay in Zechs' care.

Dorothy carried herself as self-importantly as ever. Watching her from the nursery window that over-looked the drive, Zechs noted with irritation her body's easy curve and long neck. From one hundred yard she was a woman who could command a man's attention and he was as vulnerable as any that could feel lust for a woman. Dorothy knew this, and for the first time since he had fallen to earth in the last Epyon, Zechs wished that this were White Fang and that he might have her jettisoned into the atmosphere for being such an annoyance to him.

Anne would certainly not approve of that, he thought with a grin; but he imagined they'd both have a good laugh about it.

She didn't bother knocking, but swaggered inside the foyer with servants in tow. Her hair was still waist-length and pristine, but her head was covered by a flamboyant white hat with a great beaded bow on the side. Despite the warm weather, her clothes were tailored for traveling with a tightly-fitted, pin-striped coat and flowing white skirt. Her eyes darted about the place with some disapproval and she removed her gloves, sweeping a finger over the surface of a nearby sideboard. She rubbed the dust between her fingers and gave a "Hmm" as her men piled the suitcases by the stairs. Zechs stood by the third floor railing watching the circus below.

"You pack as if you think to stay the year." He called down to her. She looked up from the brim of her ridiculous hat and smiled that devilish smile.

"This house is very dirty, Milliardo. I expect better from the former Lightening Count. A good cleaning. Yes, that will do to start. But first I want the windows open." She gave the directions to her staff that set about opening the curtains. Zechs knew he should be angry with such forwardness, but he also knew that was what Dorothy wanted.

"Excellent. We should have some tea after I have freshened up. I'll take the second floor suite on the eastern side. It has a lovely view of the grounds in the morning." Dorothy started up the stairs, unbuttoning her jacket and sighing absently to herself. Zechs followed her, biting his lip and counting backwards from ten repeatedly.

"I used to come here often as a girl. This house first belonged to my grandfather and was given to Treize's father upon his marriage. We played here together, Treize and I . . . and Gabriel, of course." Dorothy gave him a taunting wink. "There is a pretty covered pergola on the veranda in the back. We should take tea there. I would love to see how the wood garden there has been kept." They reached the second floor suite she had selected and Dorothy immediately cast aside the curtains to let some light in. Her hat was plucked from her head and placed carefully on the tall dresser by the door. One by one, the men brought in her suitcases and trunks. Taking a hanger from inside the closet, Dorothy removed her jacket and hung it on the door, then sat down nonchalantly at the vanity and addressed her hair, reapplying lipstick and both smoothing and poofing her hair. Zechs leaned against the door frame waiting for the farce to end.

"Where is my young cousin?" she asked, smacking her re-colored lips.

"Asleep in his crib." Zechs muttered coldly.

"You will tell all your staff that I am now the Lady of the house until such time, if any, that the rightful mistress should return." A small traveling brush emerged from her purse and she set to brushing the long strands. "Before you raise any objection you should know that I am within my rights here. Lady Une is gone, Gabriel the same, and the only other family member is a considerable minor. Therefore it falls to the eldest reachable family member to manage this estate. That would be me." All primping concluded she stood before him confident and regal, smiling sweetly.

"If you keep smiling at me like that, Dorothy, I promise I will break your neck" answered Zechs. Dorothy brushed him off as she walked past.

"You needn't act like it is such a hardship. You of all men need a woman to take care of the little things."

"I've never needed a woman to care for me" he followed her back down to the foyer.

"Perhaps not, but you certainly never turned away from the comfort we offer. Noin first, Anne later, and there was our brief time together on Libra. Don't mistake my support to you there."

They walked to the backyard veranda and took seats at the table beneath the pergola. "I don't mistake _anything_ where you are concerned, Miss Catalonia." Zechs bit out at her.

"I'm happy to hear it. But the fact remains that you will soon be engaged in combat and there must be someone here to manage things and care for the child. No relation of mine is going to be left to the incompetent care of servants. I don't care how fastidious Lady Une is, I've never met a servant I trust with the important things." She said all this in front of a waiting girl who Zechs knew as member of the house staff. The girl betrayed nothing of the discomfort she must have felt. Dorothy gestured lazily to her and then said "Tea for two please. Lemon, crème and sugar. Bring some scones or biscuits or whatever you people serve in these parts." Dorothy pronounced all her words carefully as if she wasn't sure the girl would understand the instructions. The servant nodded and rolled her eyes at Zechs as she passed back into the house. Zechs grimaced. He would have to make it up to the staff later.

Zechs rose from his chair and paced the veranda "So, is that why you have come here? Feeling the battle close and want a piece of the action?"

Dorothy dragged lazy fingers over the arm of the sun chair, smirking. "I have no taste left for war. You know that. Let's say I came to see your face."

"What pleasure has my face ever held for you, Dorothy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? But more to the point, I wanted to see your face now that you know about her."

Zechs chewed his lip and then with his temper in check, turned to Dorothy and presented his face. Dorothy looked a little surprised but leaned forward in her chair, inspecting him as though he were a fine piece of art.

"Amazing" She murmured.

Zechs chose not to hide his egotism. "Tell me something I don't know."

"You've already forgiven her." Dorothy leaned back, putting a delicate finger to her lip in thought as Zechs began pacing again.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh don't play ignorant with me! She lied to you, Milliardo. Lied to everyone."

Zechs shook his head "I understand those kinds of lies. In any case, she is not answerable to you."

"You don't think that if she had admitted who she really was that perhaps she might be here with you now. Mariemaia as well. All of what is happening now might have been prevented. The peace everyone bleeds for the build might be intact. If she had confessed her true name then how long do you think those people would have had your daughter?"

Zechs did not answer. He had not considered these things because he had not wanted to. The past could not be changed. The tea arrived then and Dorothy served them both. God, but he hated Dorothy Catalonia. She had traveled the miles from Italy to Brussels just to goad him. Zechs was tight-lipped and rigid for a while, drinking the tea down quickly. At length he responded in a deadly tone to Dorothy "I don't know how you know about Anne. But it can never be uttered again. No one else can find out about her. If they do, I _will_ snap your neck and leave you to rot in the river." She just stared at him, the cup hovering halfway to her lips. There was silence for a time as Dorothy considered. Then she composed herself and changed the subject.

"Is there any change with Duo Maxwell?" She asked between a sip. Zechs ate a muffin and shook his head. She was trying hard to look self-possessed but he could tell his threat had rattled her.

"It must be awful for Hildre." Dorothy said. Zechs snorted. He knew Hildre was doing everything she could to ignore what was happening to Duo. He didn't pretend to know why, the same way he didn't pretend to know why women did anything. Dorothy put down her tea and looked thoughtful.

"Strange isn't it, how forgetful this world is? A handful of years ago, those boys saved the world and we tried to destroy it. Now, you and I sit there scott-free, and one of them lies dying in a hospital and there is little attention. A strange justice."

"Justice means nothing. You were able to buy your way out of prosecution. Anne never insisted you be brought to justice. Besides, the world was calling out for my blood and crying over Treize. As his relative, they wouldn't be so vengeful toward you. And then, not everyone knew how involved we were on Libra."

"Or weren't." She gazed at him over her teacup. They stared each other for a long moment.

"That's right, Dorothy."

Dorothy shut her eyes as if taking a cutting insult. She put her cup down and rose, walking toward the wood garden she had expressed an interest in. Her mouth was set in a hard line and her back was rigid as she walked away from him.

"And you're wrong, Dorothy." He called to her retreating form. "I haven't forgiven her."

* * *

Later, while I was in space, he told Zechs that I suffered from Multiple Personalities. Out of everyone, Zechs would be the last one I would want knowing this. Treize said he was the cause of the disorder, and in some ways that's true. I set out to forget everything that I was, which I knew would include the things that Treize treasured. I can't explain to you how I did this but that it was easy for me to go to bed concentrating on the act of forgetting and to wake up with less and less of who I had been. So in a sense, Treize did not cause it, I caused it, he was simply my reason for doing it.

All in all the point is not lost. I wasn't two weeks in Outer Space before I became Anne. The Saint. It was a dance, a puppet show with me taking the lead and pulling the strings. He wanted a soft Lady who believed in him utterly. I produced that, molded it into form, and gave it voice and expression until it achieved independence from me. When it came time to be hard and cruel, I would return and take the place of the soft femininity that Anne embodied. Soon came the days where I could not reemerge at will and that Anne, this other persona, constructed and built to be exactly what Treize wanted, an extension of his being, would not be dislodged. She was the other, the opposite, the creature of perfection living without any of the hardships that would make her Analicia. I could only sit beneath a watery surface of sleep and dream about her doings.

I'm sorry, dear reader, I feel you slipping away. I will be briefer now. It is only that I want you to understand how it happened.

Lt. Nichol. How he fawned over the soft creature I presented him. I remember so clearly that one night he implored me, or rather her, to support Master Treize. The words were still ringing inside our ears. His words, Treize, who said to her "_Come back to me the Lady Une I used to be so fond of_." She was heartsick with that command. I was brimming with satisfaction. It was my best revenge against he who had taken away what I loved. Now I took away what he loved.

It would have worked out fine if not for Nichol. Patient, obliging, honorable Nichol. He helped me back to my quarters on Barge that night, holding my arm as if I were a frail creature he feared to break. At the door, he paused and looked so desperate. That was when he pushed inside the room and I let him devour me. He made love to me as a boy always does, quickly, desperately and artlessly. All the while he whispered in my ear that I was his inspiration; that I shone brighter than any star to him. Nichol deserved better than for me to not even think of him during those moments. My thoughts were filled with how foreign his touch was, how incorrect. I only allowed it to happen once. If Treize learned of it Nichol would be dispatched quickly and painfully. Nichol, feeling spurned, was very resentful toward me afterward.

That is the sum of it. I lost the battle between us because after everything, obeying him, betraying him, revenging myself on him by creating another personality he could not respect, I lost to him because I had come to love him completely and I missed him utterly. In truth I have never loved anyone like that before or after him. As the weeks went by without him, I became more and more hollow. My rage at him melted into a dark nostalgia for my lord.

It was because of my understanding of our love that I began to feel warmth toward the Gundam Pilots. They had earned Treize's ardor and respect. Therefore, I loved them as well; loving them was a way to be close to him. This was the real process of becoming an extension, a vessel of his Excellency. In loving him, I had to love my enemy as he did. This is what it meant to be Treize Khushrenada. Before Tsubarov's bullet tunneled through my breast, I understood this perfectly and embraced the white hot sensation of sacrifice for him. My world darkened then.

I remember nothing after that but my eyes bursting through water to focus on the florescent above my head. The room was swollen with red flowers, roses, all from him. My shoulder felt stiff but there was hardly a mark on my chest where I had been shot. I pulled the oxygen mask from my face. It took moments to orient myself, to pull the needles from my arm. I wrapped the bed linens around me and walked out of the room. The nurse at the desk dropped her charts and screamed when she saw me. They fretted over me and made me sit back in the room with a robe on. The doctors examined me and sent for a high ranking officer to take charge of me. They told me Treize was in Outer Space with most of the military. I contemplated this union as I waited for an officer to brief me on what was happening in the world now.

It was Nichol, strangely enough. He had brought me back and now he sat with me and explained how the events had culminated to this pinnacle. My beloved was in Space facing off against the Earth's enemy. Relena, queen, then deposed, Treize now grand leader of the Earth Sphere, Milliardo Peacecraft its sworn destroyer, Noin a rogue agent, the Gundams hanging on the periphery, a great battle waiting to take place and Gundam 01 completely rebuilt with no one to pilot it. It all seemed like an incredible Shakespeare plot.

"Do not mistake temptation for opportunity" Nichol said to me when I asked him for a space suit and escort to the launch pad and 01. He was quite changed and resentful of me, possibly for spurning him, maybe for getting myself shot, probably for the fate of barge and the world it had brought down with it. I felt somehow whole again, as if the softness of Anne and my own natural hardness had melted together and I knew my course. I put my hand on his shoulder and spoke with my new voice.

"I must do as you advised me. I must support him. In all this world there is no one else who understands him as I do, save for Milliardo. He needs someone to stand by him and be his vessel. Please, let me do this Nichol. I beg you to allow me to help him."

I believe it was because I asked and did not demand that Nichol gave in. He kissed my hand and looked at me again with the look of awe. "I think in so many ways you are Treize Khushrenada. If he does not live through this, you will be Treize Khushrenada for those of us he leaves behind. So long as you live, he will not die." I nodded and breathed peacefully as he took me to 01.

You know the rest. You were there after all, my kind reader. You know what I did, flying into the fire of Libra to save him. The surprise in his voice when Treize realized it was me was much like it was the day he found me in that cell. This time, it was me saving him. I remember feeling at peace with myself in the moments after I pushed the charred cockpit door open; feeling that I had finally repaid him for my life. We could be equals now and when this war was over we _would_ be equals. No more master and slave or savior and disciple.

After he gave the order to attack Libra, he dropped me back at the military satellite. Then he went to join his men. I was treated carefully on MOII, each soldier handling me like a resurrected prophet, the _Saint_. This suited me fine. After the initial adrenaline that comes with throwing yourself into the path of a mammoth energy cannon and also having recently arisen from a coma, I found myself beyond weary. I fell into deep sleep the minute I laid down on a cot. When I awoke, my old uniform was folded beside the bed. Don't ask me how it got there. When I was somewhat refreshed, I went to the bridge where no one contested my rank. In fact, as far as the crew was concerned, I was second in command answerable only to Treize, now master of the planet. Quite a promotion; almost worth getting shot over.

I was keeping tabs on the movements of Epyon and the Gundams when they told me he awaited me in his quarters. He had been very quiet about returning since it was unseemly for a general to leave any battlefield for almost any reason. No one would question him this time. The awe surrounding Treize was the strongest it would ever be. Every single last one of his people adored him, worshipped him, and loved him. You might expect sly glances or quiet snickering directed at me when I was called to the World Sovereign's private quarters. The whole scenario had some romantic flare to it. The loyal follower risking her life to save the general, the man and woman who had been rumored lovers long separated and now reunited on the eve of battle, the general abandoning the battlefield to see a woman. Surely, it was all these things, but I was not mocked for any of it, or maybe I was and simply didn't care. Either way, I went to him directly.

It was dark in his quarters, no lights on anywhere. But there was enough illumination from the lights of Libra and the battle nearby. I didn't knock and the door wasn't locked against me, which was a foolish lapse in security. The room was lined with thick-glass windows. Every few moments an explosion would light up the sparsely furnished room. Treize wasn't visible at first. So, feeling a little shy, I waited in the doorway, listening. There was no sound, save for what could make it through the solidity of the windows.

"We have anchors in this life." He finally said, profoundly as always. I traced his voice to the far side of the room, sitting in a chair against the wall, covered in shadow, watching the lights from the battle. His legs were crossed, jacket draped over the back of the chair and arms folded. I felt at first I should salute, but didn't.

"Yes" I answered when he said nothing else.

"What has been your anchor?" He asked, still watching the battle as if half of his mind was still out there. I thought for a long moment on the question.

"I can't really say. It has changed so much."

Treize rose, looking down at the ground as he walked toward the window, hands folded behind him. He seemed burdened and tired, weary. I sympathized with him. I hadn't been awake more than two hours and again I was feeling heavy with fatigue. This meetings importance didn't stop the dropping of my lids as I waited for him to speak again. Finally, he stopped in front of the glass, gazing out critically.

"You see there, in the distance." he put his finger to the glass indicating some spread of mobile suits on the left flank where the explosions were most numerous. "Epyon, I think. That's where Zechs is fighting. He'll never stop."

I walked to his side and looked where he pointed. Surely it must be Zechs, or perhaps Heero. But it seemed to both of us that the fury of that particular spot would most appropriately be him raging through his war.

"This has been my anchor, holding me to life for as long as I can remember. This fighting. My desire to see the pieces move according to my design, it's like creating brilliant art, the sum of my spirit unfolding on a massive canvas." He let his hand press against the cold glass. "This is what I've lived for; this is my creation, my masterpiece. I keep waiting for so long to be satisfied by this final culmination of my effort, this great and beautiful battle. And now I am waiting for it to fill the all the blank spaces inside me. Yet, there is still a vacancy, like my organs have been hollowed."

Treize looked as vacant as he felt. What a contrast to me, who finally felt communion inside, unity and fulfillment, like we had switched places. It had been years since I had seen him without the transcendent surety that defined his personality. I longed to give it back to him. The slump of his shoulders was pronounced as he leaned against the hand that pressed the glass. He seemed in a kind of sadness that bordered on dread, as though his finding his greatest desire in life would sate nothing. Without hesitation, I pulled his hand off the glass. His lips were parted and he was staring down at the floor. Then, he slowly looked up to me as if he had doubted I was real. Just as slowly, he put both his hands on the side of my head, weaving fingers in my hair and touched his forehead down to mine. "It has been . . . hard. These . . . months alone." he whispered when I put my hands over his.

"I forgive you" I knew it was all I needed to say. Our arms went around each other and I knew the peace that comes from releasing another person from torment. Again I knew the warmth of my greatest friend and hardest won love.

We stayed that way a long time before it progressed. The whole of it seemed blissfully slow though it couldn't have been that long, hands roving over each other, eyes closed and foreheads still together, to be replaced by lips. Furious kisses and slow tentative caresses.

When it was finished we lay together watching the lights flicker outside the window. We were both tired but neither dared fall asleep, too content to give up the extended moments. I remember well how the space between his shoulder and neck fit my head perfectly and how neither of us said anything for a very long time while our fingers interlaced. I was just on the edge of consciousness when he spoke.

"When the battle is over, you will have all our mobile suits destroyed." He barely whispered the order to me. I looked away from the battle hanging in space before us and gazed up at him in puzzlement, his eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. The slowly emerging implications of such an order caused my throat to close. More than a ludicrous command, it was a command that gave no thought into victory. At length he opened his eyes and shifted me in his arms. Slowly, dreadfully slowly, I began to know his mind.

"I hope that it will be Zechs who does it, but one of the Gundam Pilots may feel enough righteous indignation toward me. I will play the appropriate villain for them so that it will all be done correctly."

Still, I was locked in stunned silence, the blood slowly rushing to my temples. I was only half conscious of grabbing his forearm tightly, as if trying to hold him down and keep him from this choice. We looked at each other a long time, he with a calmed but almost regretful expression and me with hysteria coming to a boil beneath the surface. I know I must have looked desperate and frightened to him, because he stroked my hair and face as one would a skittish animal. My lungs burned from holding in my breath. Treize meant to kill himself.

"It is strange, Analicia. You are the thing I regret leaving and yet you're being here gives me the strength to do this." Treize kissed my forehead and I clenched my eyes shut against the foreign burning sensation. This could not be! How far had we come and how much had we gone through to final reach this point only to have it taken away. Unconsciously I beat a fist against him as I began to break down.

"You are going to let them kill you" I choked out as the tears flooded down my face. "Please, don't. Oh God, please don't do this!" I clung to his body, pleading as I never had to any living thing. My mind was frantic with the impending loss of him. He wouldn't return from this battle. He would extend out his arms and let himself be crucified while I stood at the foot of the cross and wept. I felt like half my body was being amputated. My face was soaked as was his neck when he embraced me so that my face pressed against him, holding me down and trying to soothe my tirade. Treize breathed unsteadily as he did this and I knew he was both mournful for me and afraid of his decision. But still, he had made his choice. He wouldn't go back; not for me, or anyone.

"Please continue it for me, my beloved. Please see that the dream endures. When I am gone, hold on to the peace I am dying for." His voice cracked as he spoke and he sounded so young, every inch a boy making a man's decision. I cried hysterically as he kissed up and down the side of my face. After a long time, I exhausted myself of tears and energy, and released my vice-like grip on him. Everything was dragging me down into surrender. His voice, hushing me was quiet and calming in my ear.

"Go to sleep, my Anne, my Leecy."

The last I saw of him was his clouded eyes watching me as the battle softly illuminated his skin.

Treize was gone when I awoke. The bed sheets were cool and I knew he had been gone a long time. My eyes felt sore from crying as I went to wash my face. All my limbs felt heavy like I carried great shackles about them. The urge to keep my head bowed and to weep again was awful. When I went to dress myself, I found his letter to me tucked inside my jacket.

_

* * *

My Dearest Lady,_

_I pray that you sleep at ease this night. It is a ferocious temptation to linger here with you lying next to me. I can't help but feel somewhat angry with us both that we wasted so much time before acknowledging that which held us together all these years and that this night might not have been the first time we met as true lovers. But I know that is my own doing. You have been my most loyal and trusted friend and it has been my deepest regret to witness your consistent unhappiness. I wanted to erase your woes almost upon the instant I met you. Quietly, I have admired your fortitude and relentlessness. Admittedly I have been jealous of your unyielding will. You never once allowed me to move you the way I have moved all others. It was my frustration with you, founded on that resistance to me that made me imprison you at my side. But you knew me and understood that it was the war between us that maddened me so. Had you succumbed, I think it likely that I would have cast you aside or kept you merely as a trophy that commemorated my victory over your country. _

_But I tell you now with absolute equanimity that I concede defeat to you. You won the battle long ago with your stalwart devotion to my dream. I knew even then that it was that which you loved and not me. Vainly I hoped that one day you would come to love me as you did my grand design for the world's future. But failing that, I tried to be satisfied that if you could not love your captor, you would love his ideals. Whatever kept you near me and on my side, dear lady, I would be grateful for. I do not pretend to be blameless in concealing your sister's incarceration in Nairobi. Telling you of your sister's survival would have given you a link back to your old life, a life that I had seen as the cause of your misery. I couldn't risk losing you to that old life, even though it made you unhappy. It was selfish of me, dear Anne, but I couldn't give you up. The world and I needed you. I was selfish, I have always been selfish. I pray you can forgive me this terrible flaw._

_That is one reason I do this. I have taken so much from this world and must now make a final sacrifice to it. Enough have gone ahead of me. It's time to end this time of violence. I will give over my own body to that end. I wish that I could be fearless in my decision, but even as I write this my hand shakes with the idea of dying. I feel a timorous surge in me when I think of death, for I feel as though I've just fallen in love with life. I pray that what they said in the cathedrals is true and this is not the end. _

_I know you will cry for me, but please know that I am happy in this. It is my joy to be able to believe in this world, and to love its people. I beg you, my lady, to do the same. Love them like my children and feel no dread. Be as exalted by them as I have been. _

_And to this request I must add more. Firstly, you must see to the welfare of Relena Peacecraft. I have much hope for the future pinned on her, but I fear her childishness will impede her progress. She will need guidance from one who understands the harsher side of this world. Do your best by her._

_Secondly, if he should survive this war, have a care for Zechs Merquise. More than any one I have known, Zechs needs care. He has ever been driven by loneliness and confusion. I beg you lady, though you may see him as an enemy after these days, should he fall into your sphere, take care of him. I owe him much and have repaid him poorly. I would have you fulfill my debt._

_Lastly, my darling, I ask that you find happiness. It would take away the value of my sacrifice if it should cast you into an extended misery. I expect you will grieve, as is natural. But do not tie yourself down to my grave. My final order to you, live and love as much as you can. I would pay the highest price for your freedom and your love._

_It has been my joy to have you at my side._

_Until we meet again,_

_ Treize Alexander Khushrenada_

* * *

I read the letter several times, committing the words and orders to memory. I remember breathing deeply several times and sitting still for a long while before I pocketed the letter. Then I composed myself and went to the command deck. I had contact with him a few times, discretely imploring him to be careful, hoping foolishly that he might turn aside, but knowing he wouldn't. In the end, it was Wufei, and not Zechs who finished him. I could hear the satisfaction in Treize's voice when the Pilot challenged him. He put on a wonderful performance, egging the young man on and playing the arrogant villain. When Wufei struck the killing blow, Treize sounded at peace in his final victory. Then his Tallgeese II burst in the night.

I remember speaking words that didn't seem to come from my throat. It took only twenty minutes for the numbness to pass. There was no time to weep or grieve. I felt inside my pocket and grasped the letter tightly, remembering his words and his orders. When Relena came aboard, I offered her the chance to take revenge on me for the death of her foster father. It was a moment of weakness, but Relena's mercy spared me the dishonor of insubordination to my dead lord. Soon, the fury of the event surrounding us made it impossible for me to linger on Treize. We had to finish this. We had to save the world. Thanks to you, dear reader, we did.

There wasn't even a body to recover you know. The cockpit had completely disintegrated. The soldiers mourned loudly, feeling the loss of their general like the loss of their king, their father, their god. I thought of how he would have reveled in their love for him. They then proclaimed me the new Sovereign of the World Nation. I allowed them this, knowing the title and position were transitory. Later, as you will remember, I met with the Gundam Pilots on MOII and gave them official pardons. None of them would be hunted or imprisoned. They were our saviors. From you, dear reader, I learned of Zechs' fate. Noin was with us when you gave the sparse details of his final moments. It was the most incredible thing to me that Noin should collapse sobbing into my arms at the news. Perhaps she saw me as kindred in grief. We had both lost our great loves in this war. Her despair was quick, for she quickly adopted the idea that Zechs was alive somewhere and wouldn't concede until she saw a body. I wished I could have had such faith for Treize's fate, and such a miracle.

My grief lingered on, under the surface. There was much to do and I had my orders. I undertook the guidance of Relena and aided her in her involvement with the new government. It was cathartic in many ways. Relena has a soothing presence and compassion that I took much comfort in. I had many options in front of me now, being free as Treize had made me. I thought perhaps to return home to the Isle, but also felt I was needed within the new Earth government. There would be time for the Isle and a reunion with my little sister later. Now, there was work to be done. However, there was a last great complication. Noin and I were drawing up plans for the Preventer department when it happened. I awoke early in the morning with horrible pains in my abdomen and blood soaking my bed sheets. At the time I was sharing an office apartment with Lucretzia and she was there to rescue me. Noin brought me to Sally Po, as they had been good friends during the war. Six hours later Sally told me I had suffered a miscarriage.

It was then, dear reader that I gave up. I resigned myself to sleep. I couldn't bear anymore and continue living. So I bottled up my past, all memories of pain and suffering and cast them out. Analicia took all of these burdens as they belonged to her and accepted the exile. It was given over to Analicia, the first and the deepest who has slept all this time.

Now we all need to wake up.

That is the end of it, faithful reader of my life. That is all I can bare to remember of where I came from, the roads I traveled and the travelers I met, the dusty and forgotten footsteps that lead me to this time and place. The blame is mine, I understand that and I feel you understand that too. But you see I had to know. I had to look back and take it all in again so that I might know what to do from this point. Now I ask you, who have been with me all this time, counsel me. I have felt you there in the back on my mind, like a silent audience member, retracing my steps with me. Slowly over the course, I have felt you slipping, fading into the darkness until I thought you had left me. I didn't want to go on this journey alone. Thank you for staying with me, for keeping me brave while I inspected these ghosts. But what now, you who so carefully tread my thoughts? I can see your face, reading the lines of my memory even as I put them forth. I don't know how it is possible that you could do that, but I trust you. Tell me, what I should do now with all of this. How can I make it right? How can I save those that remain? I trust you, Heero, I trust you. Tell me what I should do.

* * *

"Go to Zero." He muttered raggedly. Relena stroked his face and urged him not to speak. Heero's eyes were darting back and forth over the room. His face was so very pale but it seemed the bleeding had abated somewhat. Now he lay with his head in her lap, concentrating on keeping his breathing steady. Relena had made a tourniquet of sorts out of a torn sleeve. Okami lay sleeping uneasily in the corner, curled up into a fetal position. Heero inhaled deeply, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Go to Zero" he said again, louder this time.

"Heero, please, don't try to speak."

In his hand, Heero turned the small communication device, feeling its smooth surface warm. It was still off, conserving its power. He wasn't ready to make the call to Quatre yet.

"Go to Zero" he urged her again, pushing an invisible barricade. If she went to Zero, she could tell him what he needed to know, what information he could tell Quatre, who would tell Zechs.

In his fevered thoughts he cursed Zechs for his weakness in Sight. Everyday between the end of the first Eve War and the second, Heero had spent an hour inside the cockpit of Wing Zero, letting the machine possess his brainwaves, expand his consciousness and push the boundaries of mental possibility. He was strong with this power, but still did not completely control it. Zero nested in the brain, no longer tethered by the cockpit, it had long ago tutored the hemispheres of his brain into a heightened state. It came and went at its own will. Sometimes he bled like Zechs did; sometimes it was a steady current of information in his head, like watching a film. Then, on the rarest occasion, it showed him things he didn't understand and couldn't identify. Zero was mysterious but he had learned to trust the abilities it had given him. From the moment she lay down, Zero had allowed him to watch the unfolding memories of Lady Une. Heero didn't know why he was able to watch her mind. He had never been able to do it with another. But now seeing the progress of her disease over the years, he thought perhaps that was the reason. The significance was yet unseen, but Heero knew that Zero only showed him things that were of value; that would help him win. Now the advantage had finally presented itself. She somehow knew he was there watching her, reliving with her. Now, he could only push her toward the source. If she wanted answers, he knew of no other authority.

"Go to Zero." He urged a third time and Relena held him tighter.


	18. Zero

**Chapter 18**

**Zero**

_"Are you prepared now to do your duty by me?"_

_Analica Delizabane_

A slash of pure white blurred before her eyes as they popped open. Anne was sweating and felt the moisture of her eyes tickling down the sides of her face, pooling in her ears. The blur before her cleared and she recognized the ceiling rising high above her. Feeling equilibrium restored to her, Anne sat upright trying to orient herself. There was a dull ach in her upper arm and a sense of urgency in her bones. The movement had jarred the resting IV needles embedded in her veins. Slowly, she removed them from under her skin and cast them aside. She was about to do the same to the Heart Monitor sensor that encased her finger, but hesitated, hearing the soft beep of the machine on her left. Carefully, she leaned over and flicked the machine off.

She surveyed the room quickly and found it empty. A parted curtain hanging in a nearby window indicated it was late afternoon. The needle bruises on her arm suggested that she had been lying here convalescing for a long while. Rubbing her face, Anne sucked in a breath as the world around her began to make sense. Her mouth dried as she came fully back to herself, recalling the whole of the long dream and its ending. The experience felt completely fresh, as if she had just woken at the end of AC 195, as if the war had only just come to an end, as if they had only had peace an hour. Anne bent forward in the bed, head drooping suddenly and put her hands to the side of her head, scrunching up her hair and felt the hot tears flood her eyes. She wept over the loss of Treize all over again. His death was a fresh wound bleeding everywhere. God, how had she put this pain aside all those years ago? Here it was, completely unchanged and as terrible as the moment Tallgeese II lit up the sky. How had she managed to move on from that moment that froze her blood and breath and heart? Much had been forgotten about those days and all the ones before it, things she promised herself she wouldn't let go of again. The mind never really loses anything, not even her mind. A few deep breathes helped. She had to remember his wishes and her own. Life went on. That moment lasted no longer than any other. No more forgetting. Now, she would keep the keys of her memory in her own hand. Still, she felt the sting shooting up and down her chest. It was as if he had just left her after having lain together, breathing the same air. It was as if he were still breathing, still breathing. Treize.

She pressed her breath back into her body and wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back in the fresh grief. But in a moment the pain ebbed and she remembered the rest of it, the words, the letter, the orders, and the voice in her mind. _Go to Zero_. Anne wiped her face with the back of her hand trying to regain control of herself. After a few minutes of steady breathing she rose out of the bed. Her legs were stiff and she stumbled through her first few steps, holding onto the bed post for support. Carefully, she walked to the adjacent bathroom. The days spent in bed had left her feeling sticky and ripe. Quietly, she did her best to sponge off, washing her hair with the stripping hand soap by the sink. Anne didn't dare run much water for fear of bringing a guard in, for she was certain that there must be one nearby. Then she stood before the mirror and gathered herself. This was enemy territory and she was a prisoner. If she hoped to make it to Zero a good plan was needed. They would keep the black Epyon in one of the compound hangers, probably the largest one on the western side. She knew these grounds well enough to make it there undetected as long as things had not changed too much since she had last been here. Slowly, Anne clenched her fists and then spread her fingers wide, pumping the blood through them and trying to prepare herself.

A single guard at the door would be preferable. However, two would be problematic and more probable. Anne slid across the outer wall of her bedroom, listening through the plaster and dry wall for sounds of life in the hallway. She reached the door and heard a male clearing his throat and shifting his weight every few moments on the other side. There seemed to be only one, but more might be near. If the man outside was to be dispatched, he must come inside the room to avoid the assault being seen by a passerby. Waiting would be necessary, though she felt there wasn't time to waste. Heero's insistent words repeated in her inner ear like flowing water. But it would hardly get her any further if she were caught. It was getting late. She glanced at the dwindling light coming through the curtain.

A clicking noise distracted her, low but distinct coming through the spaces of the door and wall, a sound like metal spinning across hollow metal. Anne imagined a bottle being opened, or a flask, cap unscrewed. She pressed her ear to the space and listened for the sound of an exhale. It came soon after with a soft belch and another shifting of weight. In her mind's eye she saw the young guard on the other side leaning against the hallway wall, bored and restless and drinking on duty, something he would not do unless he was alone. Rising up carefully Anne closed her hand around the door knob. She prepared her other hand, pulsing the muscles of her fingers. A steadying breath and Anne turned the knob until the door unlatched, then released it and pushed herself flat against the wall. Gravity took over and the door swung inwards on its hinges. Anne heard the guard turn, wait a moment and then moved to inspect. She saw his hand on the knob and his head moving slowly through the door frame, looking deep inside and missing her form flush against the wall. Anne filled her lungs silently and sprung toward him.

* * *

The bleeding started at dusk. Zechs had been walking upstairs when it came on him. He had just seen to the staff, making sure they knew to obey Dorothy for the time being. The staff had been resentful but many of them considered Zechs master of the house since he had lived there for over a year. Dorothy was upstairs with Treize Alexander. Elizabeth Foster was in her own room and it was to there that he was headed. Hildre had advised him earlier to relax and allow the Preventer office to do what they could in preparation. Zechs hated being estranged from military planning, but he recognized that his increasingly odd behavior was making people uneasy. He had to put his faith in his underlings. If something happened, they would alert him immediately.

The pain came without warning this time, an electrical current striking through his brain stem and the blood seeped out his nostrils as he collapsed against the steps. A fraction of a second later the pain transferred to his cut like a twisting knife between his ribs. Instinctively, Zechs' hand went to his abdomen trying to hold his guts from the tear he felt sure had been cut into his flesh. The images followed. _Gabriel soaking wet and bloodstained glaring at him from his one eye. Then a light from above, a window with a woman standing in it, watching them, then an explosion of red._ Zechs felt his chest seize and he rolled down to the stairs in torpor. _A portrait of a young woman with a great slash mark through it_. _Aria, vengeful and ecstatic, holding a sword before them. A bent figure kneeling before him as he pressed a gun barrel to their forehead. _

It was over rather quickly this time. The blood still came out his nose at a steady pace but the pain had abated. Zechs lay flat on his back and stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. He couldn't make sense of everything he saw but it indicated to him that the time was almost on them. In a kind of stupor, he grabbed the railing and pulled himself up. No one had heard or seen him suffer the seizure and fall. He nearly crawled to the second floor and into his daughter's room where she absently played with blocks, murmuring to herself. Zechs looked at her without awareness and then in the same stupor he left the room for a nearby bathroom. Mechanically he went into one of the drawers and pulled out an old pair of scissors. The mirror showed him just how bloody his face had become. Zechs observed himself in the mirror from a strange distance and watched as he began to unconsciously cut his long hair. Strand after strange fell into the sink, slashed away robotically until it was about as short as Treize's had once been, the bangs still long and falling over his face. The scissors dropped from his hand and he wiped the blood away with his sleeve.

"I will have to kill you" he whispered to his reflection. His voice felt like it came from somewhere else. Zechs felt farther and farther away as he left the bathroom and went back into Elizabeth's bedroom. He sat down on her bed staring into space. Eventually, his daughter tired of her blocks and sat down on the bed next to him, silently holding his hand. He was aware of picking her up in his arms and carrying her up the flight of stairs to the media room. Inside, he found himself looking at the treasured objects he and Duo had once tried to lift from the house. There were the obscure American Television DVDs and the invaluable NASA relics nearby. Americana, all of it. He should have recognized it for what it really meant.

A feeling of dread swept over him and he thought of the woman in the window in his vision and the one that stood before him with his gun pressed against her head. He couldn't assign any other emotion or instinctual thought to these visions. They seemed like numb bits of information, a machine process to him. From the depths of that detachment came a sad remembrance.

Noin. It had been so long now since he had seen her face or heard her lilting voice, always so compassionate toward him. He would do it over if it were possible; marry his devoted Lucretzia and never returned to this planet. Zechs knew he could have found some contentment in just making her simple life happy. It wouldn't have been any great sacrifice for him and from where he had come it would've been far more than he deserved. Was that perhaps why all these things followed him to his torment, because he deserved it? The sins of yesteryear still weighed heavy on him, though he was in the practice of forgetting the past. Everyone was. Since his return from isolation no one of consequence had called for his blood. In all truth he was a war criminal, one of the worst. In the old days they would have sent him to The Hague and executed him for crimes against humanity. But The Hague was centuries gone and the current pacifist era engulfing Earth and Outer Space had found forgiveness and forgetfulness a useful policy. And then of course, he had done his part to save the world from rule under Mariemaia. He was saving it again from the tides of war and revolution.

But was he really saving it from those things? Could anyone really save it? It was very tempting to chalk his previous beliefs in total pacifism to youthful naivety. After all, Zechs was not even twenty years old when he decided to break the Earth with the Libra. That was perhaps the trouble with the world's obsession with youth. Young leaders do not have the ability to keep their passions in check and their ideals aren't always thought out.

Well, that wasn't true for Treize. His complex ideals had been considered every moment of his life, and they were more effectively realized. Zechs still cringed to think how he had been out-maneuvered in the quest for a peaceful humanity. It also was not true for Noin. She understood war and battle, but like most wished it was unnecessary. All she wanted was for people to live and live well. The merest thought of Noin created such a painful nostalgia for those days when they were both confident soldiers. Hard times but good times, better than these, for him at least.

Zechs' nostalgia died as he felt the tug in his head and neck. He sensed something coming, a communication. Zechs turned to the desk behind the couch and looked at the phone that lay cradled there. His vision pulsed when he looked there. With his daughter still in his arms, Zechs watched the phone waiting for it to come to life. With open eyes fixed on that spot, Zechs seemed to fall into waking dreams. He remembered a random dream of Noin taking his hand and telling him it was for his wife. The meaning was always lost to him. In this dazed state the pieces of the dream and his visions seem to stitch together, threading an answer before his mind's eye. He saw the hand that Noin held wrapping fingers around a heavy pistol, the barrel pointed against Anne's head. The smell of his daughter's hair, black like Noin's drifted into his bloodied nostrils. But for his selfishness, this might have been her daughter. But that thought brought to mind the image of the child's true mother, the hardest of memories to bear. Two women loved, two lost. What to do about the third? What to do about the third?

Zechs continued to stare at the telephone.

* * *

Trowa stood near Quatre in the hanger, watching Wufei and Hildre bicker about the proper way to prep a mobile suit for battle. Quatre paced nervously, not liking when two people he liked fought. Trowa wasn't as sensitive. He was more intent on watching Ten and a few other officers testing calibrations for the EMP, hoping to get a correct frequency that would disrupt the Calypso suits. Neither Trowa nor Quatre were needed here. But the absence of Zechs whom they had come to see as their general had left them feeling disjointed and nervous. The presence of Gundam pilots was reassuring to some of them, although Ten made it clear that they were beneath his notice. Ten was a follower of Zechs, but he was so proud that Trowa felt sure he would soon think himself beyond even the Lightning Count.

Hildre was the most nervous out of everyone. Duo's incapacitation aside, she had never been in an offensive battle and Wufei was not making it any easy for her. Trowa watched as the young man snapped at her whenever he caught her copying his movements on the mobile suits. Several times Wufei was stopped from calling Zechs in by Hildre's biting comments. She was insistent that Zechs needed to collect himself before the impending battle. It troubled everyone that a battle was indeed on the horizon and that there was no real weapon against the enemy.

This did not bother Trowa at all. He was confident that Zechs would make a grand entrance and put the fear of God into all his men and Hildre. They would be primed and ready for blood within ten minutes. What troubled Trowa was Heero. He was sure that Heero would have contacted them by now. It was unusual for him to wait so long to bring the others into the fold. Sure, Heero preferred to look alone, but he also understood that completing a mission meant having allies. Trowa was certain that Heero would infiltrate and make contact. But there had been only silence on all channels.

Heero missing, Duo clinging to life, Quatre anxious and heartsick over his fiancé, Wufei agitated over the capture of his commander; all of it made for a disorderly attack. But what choice did they have? Time was against them. Trowa knew better than any that one cannot wait for the enemy to make the decisions in a battle.

* * *

"How long do we have?" Mathius asked his cousin as he spooned ice into his cup and filled it with rum. They were alone together in the privacy of her apartments. Kateline reclined on her couch, smoking a long cigarette and staring up at the ceiling.

"I have an arrangement with the evening guard. They should be changing in another ten minutes. He will let you pass." Kateline blew rings with the smoke as Mathius handed her the drink and sat down next to her. He smiled with wicked jubilation.

"I can hardly believe it. Twenty minutes and I will halfway to Eldest child." He sipped his own drink and put his hand on Kateline's knee. She snickered after a long gulp and put down the cigarette in the ashtray nearby. She leaned forward.

"What do you suppose I have in my pocket?" She asked Mathius with a sultry tone, leaning into him. Mathius returned her gaze and let his hand move over her breast and into the inside of her jacket pocket. Curiously he lifted the small case from the pocket and opened it. Wrapped carefully in plastic was a small syringe. He held it up to the light and examined it.

"Just inject that into her IV. She'll never know what happened." Kateline picked up her cigarette and stood. Mathius looked in wonder at the tiny needle, his eyebrows coming together "Painless, eh? Far too good for her." He muttered. Kateline took another long drag.

"Think of it as easy prey. It's Aria that will be tough. She doesn't trust us and she has Gabriel on her side. I've tried to sway him, but the man has turned into an android. We'll likely have to remove him if he makes things difficult."

Mathius placed the syringe back in its case and pocketed it, giving his cousin a warning look. "I'd be careful if I were you. They say he can see the future." Mathius hated Gabriel and would love to see the Khushrenada scum die. But he was optimistic that the man would be too preoccupied with Zechs to do much about their plans, even if he did _know_ about them.

"All the more reason we should get a move on." Kateline checked her watch and put out the cigarette. "It's nearly time for the guard change now, get a move on."

Mathius downed his drink and smiling, headed for the door. He stopped at the threshold, went back to Kateline and kissed her roughly on the mouth. Kateline returned the kiss and smacked his rear to send him on his way. With a last smirk, Mathius left to dispatch his sister.

* * *

Shireen was just finishing up the new sentry detail list with Aria when the soldier came rushing in with the report. He was out of breath from running but gave his report swiftly.

"Lady, there's been commotion in your sister's room. The evening guard says he arrived to find no one watching over her. When he went inside to inspect he found the guard dead inside and your sister gone."

Shireen's eyes widened and looked quickly to Aria, who looked startled but not collected. Aria wasted no time in acting.

"Gather all the in house to search for her. First I want my brother and cousin found and brought to me. I don't want either of them going near that room or even that part of the house." The captain obeyed immediately and was on his radio ordering his men to gather in selected areas. Shireen couldn't help but feel the fear rise in her throat. What if Mathius and Kateline had killed Leecy? What if they knew of Shireen's involvement with her? How would she ever get out if they did? If Leecy was dead, all her hope was dashed. No, she would not think that. Shireen had risked much to aid Analicia before all this. She would not think the worst.

When the captain had finished giving his orders, he saluted Aria. "Anything else, my Lady?"

Aria was in the process of loading the pistol she kept on her hip. "How was the guard killed, Captain? Shot?" she asked him, shoving the clip.

"No, my lady. It was odd, but he had a large red bulge at his neck, like someone had tried to tear out his throat. I think he must have suffocated."

Shireen watched Aria ponder this without expression. It obviously meant something to her as she shook her head curtly.

"One more thing, Captain. I want you to find Gabriel Khushrenada and bring him to me." The captain saluted her again and left to dispatch his orders. Aria handed a second gun to Shireen who holstered it immediately.

"Come on" Aria said. They left the room together to join the search.

* * *

Gabriel watched her slide into the darkness of the hanger. He was standing a few feet away from Epyon when the side door opened. Normally this sound of the door wouldn't have garnered attention, but the way it was opened, quietly with a lot of hesitation. These were the hallmarks of a sneak. With the lights off he could keep to the shadows and surprise the intruder. Zero told him nothing, which was odd. All the more reason to stay hidden and be sure of the advantage.

A strange sensation passed through his temples and through his face when he realized it was her. Gabriel had trouble recognizing her at first. She wore an Isle jacket that was many sizes too big for her, and her long hair was stuffed down into the color. Anne was barefoot and wore a white dressing gown beneath the jacket. She kept her hand inside the coat pocket and Gabriel thought it likely that she was armed. The tingling sensation in his face spread to his chest and he felt hot. His breathing picked up and sweat began to form on his brow. Gradually he realized he could barely move. His organs were gripped with fury. In the back of his mind he could hear the sounds of his supposed son crying, the events of the night he took her from his brother's estate. She stayed against the wall, slinking her way toward Epyon like a well-trained saboteur. In his mind he saw her the day they took him from Brussels, after he had quarreled with her, what she said while they fought, and the moments before. Each moment, down the line presented itself in an electric flash of memory, like a film being played in reverse. He remembered seeing his niece for the first time, kissing Anne for the first time in her office, crossing the path of Zechs after so many years, finding her at his brother's grave. Gabriel could only manage to put his hand over his mouth as the sights, sounds and smells of his brother came alive in his mind. He watched himself fleeing earth for the colonies during the war even as he watched Anne climbing the ladder towards Epyon's cockpit, knowing he should stop her her. He was able to manage a few steps forward. She didn't hear him and made careful progress toward her goal. Gabriel stood both in the hanger and in his brother's office, now at the Academy, now at their home in Lyon.

Now again staring one-eyed into his son's crib.

Gabriel felt an ache in his eye socket and grabbed it, almost surprised to find the eye missing. Sweat was pouring off of him. Dimly he thought in the back of his mind that this shouldn't be happening. Where was his Sight? Where was Zero? Why was it silent? Anne reached the top of the ladder and the cockpit access panel. Gabriel continued forward, staring up at her.

As if she felt him suddenly, Anne turned rapidly with her pistol drawn. She aimed it perfectly with no emotion on her face. He couldn't have reached for his gun if he wanted to. Anne had him right in her sights and they both knew her aim was impeccable, a former Oz Sure Shot. It was a quiet standoff while Zero waited in the cockpit. Gabriel could only continue to look up at her while his memory and every sentiment attached to them came flooding back to his consciousness.

"Why Zero? Why now?" he whispered, almost a whimper. Anne looked down on him dangerously, reaching behind her and opened the cockpit, her aim still trained on the spot between Gabriel's eyes. He didn't try to stop her, but stared in astonishment at what this cockpit system had done to him. When the door was finally open, Anne put her gun away and her gaze on him softened slightly. It seemed to him that she was apprehensive about going inside. He understood what she was doing and how she felt. Everything inside him was swarming but he managed a few words.

"It won't lie to you. It may hurt you, frighten you, but it won't lie."

For the first time, Anne took her eyes off Gabriel and looked inside the cockpit anxiously. But she seemed to stiffen and moved toward it. She looked back at him once and he saw in her eyes a bit of the old warmth that had been lost in his memory.

"Thank you, Gabriel" she answered and disappeared inside the cockpit.

* * *

It was pitch black on the inside when she first sat down. The cockpit door closed slowly and she kept watch on Gabriel's beguiled face until it locked into place. The lights did not turn on for a few seconds and it was silent on the inside. The Epyon was different from any suit she had ever been in and this gap between familiar and foreign felt accurately like Treize to her. He had designed the original Epyon and entrusted it to Heero's keeping, which then passed it to Zechs. The Zero system within the original was not automatic and required the program to be booted by the pilot; Treize had also designed that feature. However, the Isle engineers must have felt differently. A moment in darkness gave way to an electric hissing and a slow illumination of the cockpit. In the screen before her, Anne saw the word ZERO in large bold letters flashing out at her. She gripped the handles of the machine, not intent on piloting, but of merely holding on. She was frightened, but sure that this was the wisest step. Heero Yuy of all people would not advise her poorly, unless he meant to kill her. Not that was impossibility, as Heero's history showed he was willing to sacrifice others. Still, she felt that this was correct. Answers were needed. But she neither heard nor felt anything. The words kept blinking on the screen before her but no profound message was bestowed. The tiny cockpit was dead silent save for the sounds of the machine. Anne sat motionless, waiting tremulously at first, then with increasing worry that she was somehow being judged unworthy.

Of course! Zero spoke to true warriors, Heero, Gabriel, and Zechs. She couldn't hope to compete with them. Nobody was on their level. So what now? Would she walk out of this cockpit with no answers, nothing to go on but her instinct? Perhaps that was the lesson. It could be. I made sense, did it not? What did these three men, three 'children of Zero' as they could be called, have in common? What made these men perfect soldiers? They followed their instincts, sometimes to their peril but they were true to them. It didn't take much for them to know their true enemy. But Anne, she couldn't so easily decide that. There were so many options; so many that wished her harm. Who might she trust? Whom should she raise arms against? Treize's words of so long ago came back to her "What do you want?" That was the crux of it, wasn't it? What she wanted would determine who her enemy would be. Perhaps it would be everyone. Again she thought on the question. After years and scores of dead in her wake the answer was the same.

Anne exhaled and laid her head down on the dash of the cockpit and whispered "I want to live"

All around her the cockpit came to life. The word ZERO disappeared from the screen and was replaced by a flickering that started at the edges of the screen like a dripping energy, increasing in speed and finally moving toward the center. There, it collided with itself and swirled like a kaleidoscope, streamlined, smoothing at the edges, becoming defined and finally taking form. A voice like the melding of electrical streams and waves articulated and swept through the small space of the cockpit, emanating from all four corners, echoing off itself to become coherent. Anne slowly raised her head to see the electrical specter on the screen, an image Zero had customized just for her, something she would trust. In the back of her mind she wondered how the program had known.

"My dear Lady" Zero whispered in the ghostly voice of Treize. His image gazed back at her from the screen like a shade cast in heat sensor colors, here blue, there violet, there rainbowed and hollowed, but still him. Anne sat upright and felt the polarized crackle wiring through her, a voltaic whisper, and a thrill in her corneas. Her ears hummed with the wisdom of the machine. She released her grip on the Mobile Suit's handle and relaxed, fully opening her mind to Zero.

Heero gasped awake in Relena's arms. He had been in and out of consciousness several times the last hour. Now he pitched forward, sitting bolt upright despite his wound and convulsed. A small trickle of blood began out of his nose. Relena shrieked at his seizure and tried to hold him down. She was sure this was the beginning of death throes. He had already lost so much blood and he would surely be bleeding inside. Her clothes were soaked with crimson now turning brown as it dried. Grasping at his shoulders, Relena used her might to shove Heero back down. The noise awake Okami from her torpor in the corner. Heero seemed to gag and strangle on a hidden pain. He shut his eyes tightly and scrunched up his face in exertion. Relena began crying again, feeling totally helpless. Finally, at the height of his seizing, he released a despairing howl and dropped deathly still, eyes staring upwards. Okami stayed in her corner, knees drawn up in the agony of being awake and witnessing Heero's suffering. Relena shook his limp body. His mouth was slack and the blood from his nose flowed over his lips into the cavern of his mouth, splashing against his teeth. He seemed dead. But just as Relena felt her heart expanding in her throat, Heero blinked and closed his mouth. He was still physically pained but was no longer in any mortal throe. He turned his head and his chest expanded in search for air. Relena moved his face to look at her, frantically calling his name. Eventually he focused on her and his hand stretched to reach for something. Across the room lay the small communicator. It had been dashed from his hands when the seizure took him. Relena saw his reaching and skittered across the floor to retrieve it. Heero felt the small device in his hands, turning it carefully, flicking it on. In seconds there was the sound of connection and a metallic voice crackled through the wired mesh of the device.

"Okami?" asked Quatre frantically on the other end of the communication.

"Quatre, Trowa." Heero rasped out with effort "10,271,980. Mid-way frequency. Set exactly. 10,271,980 hertz"

Zechs put his daughter down when the phone rang. She had fallen asleep in his arms and didn't object to being placed more comfortably on the couch. Elizabeth foster curled up easily in the spot her father had occupied, warmed by his body. Zechs gave a few seconds to look at her and then picked up the telephone. He did not bother saying hello as he knew it would be Trowa.

"Zechs, we have the frequency. The Preventers are preparing to deploy. The need their general"

"Understood" he answered and placed the receiver on its cradle. He turned and looked at his child sleeping. Going down on his knees, he stroked her dark hair and rested his cheek against the softness. His mind was focused on the task to come, but he understood this sentimentality was necessary. He kissed her little exposed cheek and rose to leave.

"I'll be back" he whispered to her sleeping form. He left the room then and went to the third floor nursery where Dorothy sat reading as Treize Alexander napped. He ignored Dorothy and the indignant cries of the baby as he woke him and held him a moment. Zechs regarded the child of his enemy a moment, a boy with a powerful name, born from a powerful man and even more powerful woman. Within the next twenty four hours, he might be an orphan. Barren of expression, Zechs replaced the child, kicking and crying in his crib. Dorothy rose to address him, but seemed unable to speak. Perhaps she recognized something of Milliardo Peacecraft in him and felt it dangerous to speak. She acted uncharacteristically timid, as though she had much to say but no heart to say it. Zechs understood it was not the time. He raised a commanding finger at her and spoke clearly.

"You are responsible"

Dorothy nodded and sat back down. Zechs was satisfied with this and left the room.

* * *

Trowa put down the phone and nodded to Wufei and Ten. "He is on his way. I will call Sally". But Sally beat him to the punch as the phone rang before he dialed the number. Hildre was nearby organizing the squadrons with Quatre. Everyone was rushing to expedite the deployment. There was a strong sense of excitement and aggression in the room as soldiers finished up prepping their Scorpio suits for battle.

Trowa told Sally about the contact with Heero and the subsequent deployment before she was able to say anything. She might be remaining at HQ but it was important for that order to come from Zechs. They would need her down at the Hanger. Sally agreed but then briefed him on the purpose of her call. As she spoke, Trowa's eyes went to Hildre. When Sally finished, she assured him she would be at the Hanger soon. They hung up together. Wufei looked at Trowa curiously and Ten followed his line of vision to Hildre. Trowa did not enlighten them to what Sally had said but walked over to Hildre who was buzzing back and forth helping with the squadrons and individual soldiers. She was flushed in effort, working herself with exuberance. Somehow, this seemed very natural to her. Trowa thought she must be a born soldier or a naïve fool to be so enthusiastic. She flitted back and forth like a hummingbird until Trowa caught her arm. Hildre was so preoccupied with her duties that she almost shrugged him off. But the look on his face stopped her. She put down the piece of machinery she was holding, handing it off to subordinate. Trowa said nothing but put both hands on her arms as if to steady her. She looked at him curiously at first but the profundity of his expression made her suddenly fearful. Hildre's eyes widened suddenly as she realized.

"He's dead, isn't he? Duo's dead!" her eyes welled up and her voice cracked. Trowa shook his head.

"He's awake, Hildre. He's awake and asking for you."

Neither of them had time to say anything more. Zechs had arrived and the soldiers were running to line themselves up at attention for the Lighting Count's inspection. Hildre looked from Trowa, to the Scorpio suits and running soldiers, to Zechs and back to Trowa who was still looking at her with his hands on her arms. She could tell from the look he gave her that she had a hard choice. Hildre might not survive this battle. Duo was awake and asking for her. Did she go to him now when he needed her or go to war with Zechs where she was also much needed? That was the choice his eyes presented her with. A thousand thoughts and emotions passed through her mind all at once.

Hildre gulped and took a deep breath. She raised her chin in resolve and Trowa released her arms. Tight-lipped and rigid, Hildre joined the ranks of the Preventers lining up before Zechs, the Gundam pilots standing behind him.

* * *

Aria and Shireen entered the hanger together with their large retinue of soldiers. Kateline and Mathius were in the middle of the group, both looking furious. Aria watched them carefully. There was suspicion of course that they would make a move to dispatch her incapacitated sister, but she couldn't find evidence of foul play. It was more likely that Leecy had moved herself. She couldn't escape the property, everyone knew that. Security was too tight even for one who knew the grounds, even for one such as Lady Une. _If we pride ourselves so much on security why was there only one soldier guarding her room_? An oversight and a stupid one at that. Aria knew there were vipers in her midst and the risk to Leecy was high. However, she couldn't assign too much blame or malice to her family. It was their way, their tradition. Whatever is humanly possible is also perfectly moral, including murder. That was the Arian philosophy that she put her name to in order to advance it. It was what had kept them strong in the face of the world. It was what they all believed.

All but Leecy.

They found Gabriel standing in front of Epyon, staring up at it. Aria could see the rigid set of his shoulders and noticed the Eypon's eyes glowed green. The cockpit was occupied. She told her men to hang back and stood next to Gabriel who was breathing hard. She placed her hand on his shoulder but he continued to stare. At his foot was a small puddle of blood and Aria caught sight of the drops as they fell off his chin, originating from both his nose and ears. Shireen came forward as well. More boldly than Aria would have thought, Shireen grabbed his face and forced him to look away from Eypon and at her. They looked each other in the eye for a moment. Mathius and Kateline emerged from the retinue and stood a few feet behind them. Aria noted how they did not look at each other and it spoke of guilt like nothing else. They would be dealt with in time. Gabriel and Shireen continued to stare each other down. Shireen's hand still held Gabriel's chin and was becoming bloody. After a time he closed his eye and bowed his head, breathing deeply.

"They will be coming here now" he whispered.

The cockpit door opened then and the men instinctively took out their weapons. Shireen released Gabriel and everyone focused their attention on the figure within the cockpit. She came out slowly, her head bowed. The Isle coat had been discarded and she stood at the edge of the cockpit like a ghost in a white dressing gown, her hair falling and hiding her bowed face. Slowly she raised her head but was much quicker with the gun. Before any of the men could react she had fired a single shot that went through Kateline's forehead and took off the back of her skull. She dropped dead with the cloud of blood still hanging in the air. Mathius leapt back and Aria had to put her hand up quickly to prevent any of her soldiers from opening fire. Loudly so as not to be misunderstood, she ordered their weapons down. Everyone stared at Analicia, with her gun still pointed at the spot where Kateline had been. Mathius was half covered in blood, breathing hard and looking at the mess that had been his cousin, then up at his oldest sister. Aria glanced at Shireen and saw the unmistakable mark of pride on the girl's face. Analicia dropped her aim and stood regally.

"As I am Eldest Child, I will permit no vipers in my house. This _IS_ my house." Her voice deep and accented rang across the hanger. She looked down at everyone from a height that was greater than where she stood. Mathius was increasingly upset and his twin sister took hold of his arm and forced him to stand beside her in composure. Leecy gazed at the company dangerously.

"Our enemy is coming. Any moment now, Zechs Merquise will lead an army of Preventers and Gundam Pilots to attack our stronghold. They know the Calypso. They are well armed against it. Hiding in the shadows will not avail us this time. We must meet them head on. The Preventers are the best pilots in the world and space, and they are backed by faith in what they believe they are preserving. Zechs would do more than destroy us. He would obliterate us and our memory from the Earth Sphere. We must meet him on even ground in this. We MUST show him that we are our own nation and our own people. We will not allow the mistakes of the past to repeat! We must obliterate Zechs as he would us! He is the last threat in a government that would take our freedom and our right to independence, the last incarnation of the enemy we have long sought to destroy. We must destroy the Preventers and anyone else who challenges our independence! This is MY house, and I will show you how best to defend it against Zechs Merquise."

"This is our home and we were born for dying!" She raised her arm then like a Cleric imparting the inspiration of the Gospel. Shireen went down on her knees immediately in allegiance, pulling Mathius with her. Aria felt her knees following suit, her mind swimming with the long sought victory of bringing the true Eldest Child home. She could tell her entire troop was on their knees too. They began to cheer and chant behind her in acceptance of their new leader. Gabriel was the last to go down, but only on one knee. He did not bow his head but kept his eye fixed on Analicia as the Isle swore allegiance to the First Lady of War.

**To Be Continued in Of Saints and Soldiers: Book III**

Coming soon

(I promise!)


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